Til I Forget About You
by Fish Stick Friday
Summary: Camille finally gets her big break. Filming is in New York City and could take months. She doesn't want to leave Logan behind. She wants Logan to come with her. When forced to choose between his girlfriend and his best friends, who will Logan choose?
1. Trouble in Paradise

**A/N: This whole story will be written from Logan's POV. The title of this story is also one of BTR's songs, and if you didn't know that, then how can you seriously call yourself a BTR fan? **

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything. In order to own a show like Big Time Rush, I think I would need a lot more money than the pitiful amount that is currently in my checking account. I think I would also have to not live paycheck to paycheck like I do.**

**Til I Forget About You**

_Trouble in Paradise_

Camille was sitting on my lap as the two of us sat by the pool at The Palm Woods waiting for word on whether or not she booked the role for the audition she had earlier today. The director had told her that it would be sometime between three and five o'clock in the afternoon when they would call her and give her the news. It was currently 4:59 p.m. Camille's phone rang. She picked it up and looked at the Caller ID, her eyes lighting up upon seeing who it was that was calling her. She answered her phone.

"Hello?" she greeted.

I had her free hand sandwiched in between both of mine. I was caressing the top of her hand with my thumb. Auditioning wasn't a novelty for her, but regardless, her palm was sweaty, and her hand shook as she listened to the director's news.

"Really? That's great!" Camille exclaimed.

I leaned in and gave her a congratulatory kiss on the cheek. I didn't really know what had been said, but Camille said it was 'great,' so that had to be a good thing, right? Camille was such a gifted actress. I was genuinely surprised that she didn't book more roles than she did.

"Oh," Camille commented, a hint of sadness in her voice. I gave her free hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze. "So soon? For how long?"

Tears threatened to spill from her eyes. I wanted to think that they were tears of joy, but there was a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, that they weren't happy tears—they were sad tears.

"Okay, thanks. Bye now," she said, her voice cracking.

No sooner had she hung up did I pull her in for a comforting hug. She tentatively returned my embrace. For some reason, my gesture seemed to make her sadder rather than happier. I could now hear the sounds of her sobs. I pulled back, and looked at her questioningly.

"What is it? What's wrong?" I asked.

"I got the part," she answered.

I was thoroughly confused. If she got the part, then wasn't that _good_ news? If so, then why was she crying? Why did she seem so sad?

"Congratulations, Camille! I knew you would!" I replied.

She shook her head left to right repeatedly. A solitary tear escaped, and slowly made its descent down Camille's cheek.

"No, you don't understand Logan. Filming isn't here in Los Angeles; It's in New York City," she told me.

Whether consciously or subconsciously, I wrapped my arms even tighter around Camille after she had said that. Now, even my smile had turned upside down.

"How long?" I inquired.

I wasn't even sure I _wanted_ to know the answer to that. I was fully aware that the role she was auditioning for was the female lead for a major motion picture. It wasn't some low budget film either; the film had a budget of three hundred million dollars.

"Filming could take months," she responded, averting her gaze.

It suddenly was extremely difficult for me to breathe. I had to let go of my hold on Camille, so that I could clutch at my chest painfully. My world seemed to be spinning around me at a nauseating pace. I closed my eyes, pinched the bridge of my nose, and took several deep breaths in succession in an effort to calm my frayed nerves.

"Now when you say that, you mean one or two, right?" I asked hopefully.

I think I could deal with one or two months. I would just convince myself that Camille was taking a vacation—a rather extended vacation—but a vacation nonetheless. However, I don't think I could bear being away from Camille any longer than a couple of months.

"I'm afraid not. More like six months. Maybe even closer to a year," she replied, her tears now flowing freely.

No, no, no! This couldn't be happening! How was I supposed to go six months to a year without Camille? The longest I had ever been away from Camille was six weeks when Big Time Rush went on tour this past summer. Even then, it was torture for me. Besides, back then, Camille and I weren't even boyfriend and girlfriend.

"Look Logan, I hate this as much as you do," she commented.

I looked at her with pleading eyes.

"Then don't go. You can land another role; preferably one here in Los Angeles," I said.

"This is my big break, Logan. I _have_ to take this role. You _know_ I have to," Camille stated.

I knew I was being incredibly selfish right now. Camille had always supported my career. Her career was finally starting to take off, and instead of being supportive of her, I didn't want her to go; I didn't want her to leave me behind.

"What will become of us though? What am I supposed to do? Just wait for you to return hoping that you don't meet someone amazing in New York City?" I asked.

Camille laughed. It was a small laugh, and I had no clue why she was laughing, but she was.

"You really don't give yourself enough credit, Logan. I think what's more likely to happen is some girl who isn't good enough for you will hook up with you the instant you're available," she remarked.

I highly doubted that. The statistical probability of that ever happening was infinitesimally minimal. I was just lucky that Camille had feelings for me. Why would any girl like me? I was scrawny. I was geeky. I was a scaredy-cat. I was socially awkward around girls. I was only mildly attractive at best. I was pessimistic. I wasn't a thrill-seeker.

"Yeah right, Camille. I'm no catch," I commented, breaking eye contact with her.

She gently cupped my chin with her hand, and turned it so that I was facing her. Camille's eyes glimmered with tears—both shed and unshed.

"You're kidding, right? You don't have to worry about me meeting someone 'amazing' in New York City. I've already met someone 'amazing' right here in Los Angeles—you," Camille said.

My eyes started to water. That quite possibly was the sweetest thing a girl had ever said to me in my life. Great, now I was crying. Add crybaby to the extensive list of reasons why I'm _not_ a catch.

"What did I do to deserve you?" I questioned.

"Oh please. You act like you're the lucky one when in reality, I am the one who won the boyfriend lottery," she said.

I couldn't help but snicker at her 'boyfriend lottery' remark, which I think is _precisely_ what Camille had been going for.

"Really Logan, you have no idea how much of a catch you are. You're kind, sweet, trusting, dependable, nice, selfless, caring, funny, smart, talented, and not to mention hot," Camille said.

I felt my cheeks heat up as I rubbed the back of my neck. I bashfully averted my gaze.

"See? Look at you blushing! How adorable! You're adorable!" Camille exclaimed.

If I wasn't blushing before, I was _definitely_ blushing now. It was just Camille was embarrassing me saying all those nice things about me. How could she see all of that in me if I didn't even see it in myself?

"Well you're amazing, talented, passionate, sweet, funny, caring, quirky, driven, nice, and not to mention gorgeous," I replied.

It was Camille's turn to blush now. She tried to hide her face behind a veil of her hair.

"I don't want you to go to New York City," I said simply. So much for me being selfless.

She wrapped her arms around me, sniffed my jacket taking in my scent, rested her head on my shoulder, and snuggled into my embrace.

"I don't want to go to New York City either; not if it means being away from you," Camille replied.

What other choice did she have though? She couldn't pass up this incredible opportunity. Opportunities like this come once in a lifetime, and even then, only if you are insanely lucky. It wasn't fair for me to ask her to choose me over her career; she never made me choose between my career and her.

"What if you come with me? To New York City, I mean," she suggested.

"What about school? What about Big Time Rush? I can't just leave Kendall, James, and Carlos behind. They're my best friends. The four of us have been inseparable since pre-Kindergarten. As much as I want to be with you, I can't leave Los Angeles. This is my home now," I replied.

She let go of me as she first sat up, then stood up. She turned to face me. She raised her right hand and slapped me hard across the side of my face. I immediately massaged my sore cheek, and looked at her with a deer-in-headlights expression on my face.

"I get that this is difficult for you, but it's not easy for me either! I'd have to change schools too! I have friends and family here too! Jo and Stephanie are my best friends, and I'd have to leave them behind too! I'm going to New York City! There's no way I'm letting this opportunity pass me by! If you really care about me like you say you do, then you'll come with me! If not, then I guess you don't care about me as much as you claim to!" Camille yelled.

The two of us were starting to attract an audience. A bunch of onlookers dropped what they were doing to stop and stare at the impending fight Camille and I were having with one another. I took a few deep, cleansing breaths. I didn't want to yell at her even though she was yelling at me.

"After everything we've been through, how can you say that I don't care about you? I was the first boy to ever ask you out. I dressed up as a prince and rode in on a fake horse to ask you out to the first ever school dance here at The Palm Woods. I gave you a part in our music video 'The City is Ours' because you hadn't booked a role in a while, and would have had to leave The Palm Woods. If that doesn't show that I care about you, then I don't know what does," I replied, making extra certain that I didn't raise my voice at her no matter how furious I was getting with her.

"How about telling me that you love me? How about taking the initiative and kissing me for a change? The only time you kissed me, we kissed each other, so it didn't really count as you kissing me! Let me tell you Logan, it gets really old always being the one kissing you!" Camille shouted at me.

My blood was boiling. She was really starting to push my buttons. I couldn't keep my voice from rising anymore.

"Well gee; I'm so sorry that it's such a chore for you to kiss me! I'm not the one who is so insecure that I have to go around marking my territory! Let's face it, Camille; that's the only reason you go around kissing me so much—to let people know that I'm yours! Like I belong to you! Like I'm some sort of possession! You want to know why I don't go around kissing you all the time? It's because when I kiss you, I want it to be special! I want it to mean something! If I were to kiss you all the time, then each kiss wouldn't mean as much; each kiss wouldn't be as special! How big of a douche does that make me?" I screamed back.

Tears were streaming down my face. My entire body was shaking. I hated confrontations. I didn't like fighting with people. I didn't like how it made me feel. I didn't like how my body reacted to it. My heart pounded in my chest. I shook from head to toe. My pulse accelerated. My palms got all sweaty.

"You sanctimonious, self-righteous jerk! You think you're such a saint! I'd hate to burst your bubble—well actually, no I wouldn't—but you're far from a saint! Just because you're so smart, you think you're always right! You're never wrong! You're so incredibly narrow-minded that you can't even consider other people's thoughts or opinions!" Camille hollered.

I wanted to stop fighting with Camille. I really did. It's just our altercation was in full swing now. This was the first major fight the two of us had since James and Camille kissed. The longer Camille and I continued to bicker, the more difficult it became to stop.

"Well, there's no way I'd be caught dead going to New York City with you now! Thank you for making my decision an easy one! Go ahead and hook up with some other guy in New York City! See if I care!" I screamed.

"Well good, because I don't want you to come with me to New York City anymore! Maybe I will meet some guy in New York City and fall madly in love with him! He'll be everything you're not! He'll be the anti-Logan! Meanwhile you'll be stuck here as a terminal bachelor! I was your first romance, and I'll be your last romance, because why would anyone want to be _your_ girlfriend? Unless they're desperate, that is!" Camille yelled.

I don't even know why we were fighting. I didn't even know how it had started. All I knew was what she just said to me really hurt. Her words might as well have been little daggers in the back. She knew how self-conscious I was. She knew how little self-confidence I had. Whatever miniscule amount of self-confidence I may have had, she just completely obliterated.

I was so humiliated. I was so mortified. I couldn't stand having people stare at me anymore. So, I took off running. I didn't know where I was going so long as it was away from here. I was in such a rush to leave the crowd of onlookers behind that I tripped over my feet and fell to the ground. I threw my hands out to help stop my fall. The wind was knocked out of me, and I could feel the myriad scrapes on my exposed forearms, but I could care less. I hastily picked myself up and ran away from the crowd, and ran away from Camille.

To Be Continued…

**A/N: Just so you know, this story is not based off any of my other stories. It is meant to stand alone. I may occasionally reference things that happen in actual episodes of the television show, but that is all. If this story even gets half the response that Big Time Disaster got, then I will be one happy guy. If not, I'll still be happy because I've been dying to write this story anyways. **


	2. Reconciliation

**Disclaimer: Nope. I still own nothing.**

**Til I Forget About You**

_Reconciliation_

It had been three days since Camille and I fought. We hadn't spoken to one another since then. We've both been avoiding each other like the plague. There were some places where it was impossible to avoid her—school for instance. We both went to school at The Palm Woods. Just because we couldn't avoid each other at school didn't mean we had to talk to one another.

The longer we went without communicating with one another, the easier it became to continue to give Camille the silent treatment. We had both long since calmed down, but we also had both hurt each other when we weren't so calm.

I know that a lot of what was said was said in the heat of the moment. We both said some pretty hateful, hurtful things to one another. That being said, when you are that angry, your subconscious feelings bubble to the surface; things you wouldn't normally say get said anyways. In that case, I got a rude awakening as to how Camille really felt about me.

I knew I wasn't entirely without blame though. After all, I called her insecure. I told her how I resented her treating me like I belonged to her. I judged her based on how she chooses to show affection, or rather how often. I was wrong. It wasn't often I was wrong, but when I was, I'd own up to it.

Of course, a part of the reason I haven't had any contact with Camille—verbally or otherwise—was because Kendall, James, and even Carlos wouldn't let me. Any time I would show even the slightest inclination of wanting to go talk to Camille, every time she looked like she would come over and talk to me, the three of them would step in and guard me from her.

My skeptical side was starting to win out. What if Camille was right? What if I couldn't get another girlfriend? What if I couldn't get someone better? Was there even anyone better? Camille was pretty amazing when she wasn't making jabbing little remarks about me. Maybe I didn't want anyone else. Maybe all I wanted was Camille.

Would she even take me back though? Or was the damage to our relationship irreparable? Did we even still have a relationship? Neither one of us really said that we were breaking up in those exact words. Of course, maybe we didn't have to say it in those exact words. Our fight was pretty bad. It was by far our worst fight yet—even worse than when James and Camille kissed. Maybe there was an implied break up somewhere in the heated argument the two of us had a few days ago.

Kendall, James, Carlos, and I had finished with school for the day. We still had an hour before Gustavo and Kelly wanted us at Rocque Records for rehearsal. The four of us went back to Apartment 2J to at the very least drop off our school stuff. No sooner had we got into our apartment did we hear a knock on our front door. James went to open it, and Camille was standing on the other side. She must have followed us home.

"Can I see Logan?" I heard Camille ask.

"Over my dead body!" James exclaimed.

I rushed over and quickly got in between James and Camille.

"It's okay, James. I need to talk to her," I said.

"Are you serious?" Kendall asked incredulously.

"Very. Come on, Camille. Take a walk with me?" I asked.

I figured it would be safer and a little more private if we didn't have a conversation in front of the other guys. I also thought it would be a good idea to get Camille out of that situation. Based on the way Kendall, James, and Carlos were glaring at Camille, if looks could kill…

I walked out of Apartment 2J, quietly closing the door behind me. I fought back an urge to hold Camille's hand while we were walking. It might be a little too soon to start that back up again. I noticed her give me a small, grateful smile.

I had no idea where we were walking to. My feet kind of just had a mind of their own. All I knew is that we couldn't just stand there outside Apartment 2J because the guys might be able to hear what we were saying.

"I'm sorry about what I said the other day when we were fighting. Everything I said to you I said in the heat of the moment. I really wish I could take back all those hurtful things I said to you, but unfortunately, I can't. All I can do is ask for your forgiveness. I probably don't even deserve it," I said.

We both stopped walking, and Camille put her finger on my lips to shush me.

"Of course I forgive you. You don't even need to ask. I'm sorry too. Like you said, everything I said to you was in the heat of the moment, but that's still no excuse. What I said to you was far worse than what you said to me. I don't even know why I snapped at you like I did. I think it might be because I thought it sounded like you were choosing your best friends over me," Camille stated.

I placed my finger over her lips to shush her this time.

"I didn't say that. I mean I guess I could see how you might have deduced that based on what I said. If you had let me finish…Okay, that sounded bad. Let me try again. Yes, I don't want to leave my best friends behind. However, I also don't want you to leave me behind. Does that make sense?" I asked.

"I get it, Logan. I understand how this puts you in a difficult situation. It's not fair for me to ask you to choose between your best friends and me. You've never had me choose between my best friends and you. Look, you don't even have to decide anything right now. Take some time and think about it. I'm leaving in four days. Whatever you decide, I'll have no hard feelings," Camille said.

No matter how I sliced it, this was a lose-lose situation for me. If I chose to go to New York City with Camille, the guys won't be happy with me. If I chose to stay here in Los Angeles, Camille wouldn't be happy with me. No matter what I did, I'd be choosing one over the other, and the one I didn't choose would hate me for not choosing them. Sure, Camille says there will be no hard feelings no matter what I decide, but I know she really wants me to come with her; I know she'll be disappointed and upset at me if I choose to stay here.

I had known Kendall, James, and Carlos a whole lot longer than I had known Camille, so I felt inclined to choosing them. However, I felt like I was being tugged in two entirely different directions. A part of me felt like I should go with Camille to New York City. I mean what if I stay, and she does meet someone in New York City? She'll come back, if she'll even come back at all, with a boyfriend who isn't me. My insecurity was rearing its ugly head. It's not that I didn't trust Camille; it's just that I don't trust the guys who she might meet in New York City.

Camille might not have meant what she said to me, but what if she was right?

_Meanwhile you'll be stuck here as a terminal bachelor!_

_I was your first romance, and I'll be your last romance, because why would anyone want to be your girlfriend? Unless they're desperate, that is!_

Camille was my first romance. What if I stupidly let her slip away from me? What if she is the only one who will put up with me? What if no one else wants to be my girlfriend? I mean let's face it; I'm no James.

"Logan, hey, are you okay?" Camille inquired.

It wasn't until I felt a few tears trickle down my cheeks that I realized I had been crying. I wiped them away with the back of my hand all the while hoping Camille hadn't noticed I was crying.

"Yeah, I was just thinking," I answered.

"About what?" Camille replied.

"You know, you don't have to settle for me. I'm sure you could do much better than me. I know I'm flawed."

"Logan—"

"It's okay if you think I'm flawed. I think I'm flawed too."

Camille frowned at me. She never did like it when I was being hard on myself. She was always telling me that I didn't give myself enough credit.

"You're wrong. I'm not settling for you. I also couldn't do any better than you," Camille remarked.

"Gee, thanks!" I exclaimed. Was that _supposed_ to make me feel better?

"No, no, no! I didn't mean it like that! I meant before you, no guy had ever asked me out before because I usually scare them away. Everyone seems to think I'm crazy. People view me as a drama queen with my over-the-top behavior. You're the only guy who has put up with me. For all I know, you are the only guy who will ever put up with me. _That_ is why I couldn't do any better than you; you're already the best."

I suddenly became extremely self-aware. I noticed my cheeks start to heat up. I instantaneously turned my head away from her fully intent on keeping Camille from noticing as well.

It was amazing the difference three days could make. It was hard to believe that three days ago, Camille and I had our worst fight ever, and now we were both beating ourselves up by being our own worst critics.

Camille laughed lightly. "Are you…blushing?" she asked.

"What?" I replied in a high-pitched voice, before clearing my throat and speaking in a deeper voice. "What? No!"

My little squeaky slip up just caused me to blush more fiercely. I heard Camille's laughter increase in volume. This was splendid; the girl I like was amused by how socially awkward I was around girls. Or maybe it was just how socially awkward I was around Camille.

"Are you sure?" Camille questioned, chuckling.

I turned my entire body away from Camille.

"Wait. Give me a minute," I declared.

Stop blushing, Logan! Stop blushing! Darn you, Camille! Darn the effect you have on me! I continued trying to will myself to stop blushing, but it wasn't working very well.

"It's okay if you're blushing, Logan. It's…cute," she remarked.

"Cute?" I replied, skeptical of her diction. "I'll show you cute."

I had an idea, and instead of stopping to weigh the pros, and cons like I normally do, I decided to take a risk by making a bold move. I leaned in, and I saw her immediately respond by leaning in as well.

"Don't move," I instructed.

I didn't want this to be a mutual thing. I wanted this to be something that I did on my own. The way I saw it, this was a twofer; I would show Camille how sorry I truly was for the things I said to her in our fight a few days ago, and I could check something else off the list of firsts that I have done with Camille.

Camille did as I told her, and remained still. I continued to lean in. I closed my eyes and parted my lips before my lips crashed into hers. I must say that it was an entirely different experience when I was doing the kissing than when I was the one being kissed. Camille had to have known my gesture was coming. However, I could still tell that she was surprised by it nonetheless. It was a long kiss—one I didn't want to stop—but eventually, I ran out of breath and _had_ to pull back. I panted as I tried to catch my breath.

Camille's jaw had dropped. Her eyes were wide as she stared straight ahead. I waved my hand back and forth in front of her face.

"Earth to Camille," I said.

That's when I saw how her cheeks were now flushed. I snickered. What goes around comes around.

"Are you…blushing?" I remarked.

I could hardly keep a straight face as I continued.

"It's okay if you're blushing, Camille. It's…cute," I said mockingly.

Truth be told, another reason I decided to kiss Camille for the first time was because up until a few days ago, I had no idea how much it bothered her that I never took the initiative when it came to kisses the two of us shared. Now that I knew, I wanted to rectify that.

"Wow! Just…wow!" Camille exclaimed.

To Be Continued…

**A/N: Okay, so if you expect Camille and Logan to be all lovey-dovey every single chapter, then you are sadly mistaken. This is categorized as angst/romance for a reason. I also wanted to let you know a couple of things. First of all, in this story, I plan of focusing primarily on Logan and Camille. I'm not saying other characters won't appear, because they will; it's just they'll have more…minor roles. Secondly, I know what I want to accomplish in this story. Once again though, my writing style is that I come up with a premise and a general direction, but flesh out the details as I go; I don't have the whole story written out beforehand. I write as I go. That being said, please don't ask me how many chapters this story will have because I don't know. I write one chapter at a time. I also kindly ask that you don't tell me how many chapters to write. I love creative writing because there are no restrictions or limitations, so please don't impose any on me. **


	3. Dissension

**A/N: I have a fairly new poll on my profile page—what is your favorite bromance and/or slash pairing for BTR? Do you want me to start my Carlos/Logan Horror/Humor story now? The one that was the other option in a previous poll about what I should do for my next project? The reason I ask was because there was a huge discrepancy in review count for this story. The first chapter got 21 reviews. The second chapter got 8 reviews. I don't write to get tons of reviews, but still, if you don't want me to continue this, just say so. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Big Time Rush. This is only written for entertainment purposes a.k.a. not for profit.**

**Til I Forget About You**

_Dissension_

I had asked Kendall, James, and Carlos to come to the living room for a "band meeting." What I _really_ wanted to talk to them about was the possibility of me going to New York City with Camille in a few days. I wanted to kind of test the waters and see how they reacted. I hadn't made a decision yet one way or the other; this was merely hypothetical.

The three of them were seated on the orange couch in the living room. I was standing before them. I dreaded doing this. I was anxious about doing this. My hands were shaking, so to keep them from noticing, I stuffed them in the front pockets of my jeans. My knees wobbled, but I hoped against hope that they didn't notice that as well. I took a deep breath. Here goes nothing.

"What would you guys say about me going to New York City with Camille…theoretically?" I asked.

Carlos and James turned to Kendall, who looked offended by what I was asking. I braced myself for what might be coming next.

"Are you joking me? Not too long ago you and Camille got into a huge fight that everyone at The Palm Woods was talking about, and now you want to go to New York City with her?" Kendall replied, incredulous.

"Okay, first of all, the two of us patched things up. You all know how I suck at holding grudges for too long. It was actually pretty surprising that I was mad at Camille for three days considering how the longest I've ever been mad at any of you is an hour. Anyways, second of all, I didn't say I was going to New York City with Camille; I was merely asking how you guys would feel if I did," I answered.

Once more, James and Carlos looked at our unofficial leader, Kendall. He stood up from the sofa. I was trying to get a good read on what he was thinking or how he was feeling, but he remained completely stone faced.

"Do whatever you want, Logan," Kendall commented offhandedly.

He brushed past me perhaps a little rougher than necessary. I had to catch myself before I toppled over. I removed one of my hands from my pocket and held it out in front of me in a 'don't go' gesture.

"Kendall," I said glumly.

However, he didn't respond. He didn't even look at me. Instead he headed straight to his room. I was surprised when I heard the door close softly; I fully expected him to slam the door or something. I turned back around to face James and Carlos, who now were the only two people still seated on the couch.

"What's in New York City?" James inquired.

"Camille's filming for a major motion picture there. She got the female lead," I responded.

"How long will it take to film?" Carlos asked.

I had a feeling they would ask this question. This is the one question that I dreaded giving an answer to. This was the deal breaker. It didn't seem like James and Carlos were mad at me like Kendall was…_yet_. My answer to Carlos' question might just change that though.

"I don't know exactly, but it could take six months to a year," I answered.

James and Carlos exchanged worried looks with one another. I couldn't bear to see the expressions on their faces, so I opted to stare at the floor.

"Look, I haven't made a decision yet," I said.

"Then why does it sound like you're asking us for permission to leave?" Carlos replied meekly.

Upon hearing what Carlos said, my heart broke. I felt my eyes start to water, and it wasn't long before my vision was blurred by tears. I felt like the worst friend ever. I wouldn't blame them if they were mad at me. If I were in their position, I would be mad at me too.

"Please don't make this harder than it already is," I begged.

"I don't _want_ you to go," Carlos stated matter-of-factly.

I tentatively walked over to Carlos to reassure him, give him a comforting hug, something, _anything_, but I was taken aback when he wriggled out of the way.

"Don't Logan. Just…_don't_," Carlos said, tears in his eyes and his voice.

He stood up and walked away from me. He joined Kendall in the bedroom, softly closing the door behind him.

I clasped a hand over my heart. It hurt so badly. It was one thing for Kendall to be mad at me, but Carlos too? It was too much. I was having difficulty breathing. I couldn't see straight. I couldn't think straight.

This couldn't be happening. It was only hypothetical too! I knew they wouldn't take the news well, but I never imagined it would go this badly. The thing was, I hadn't even made a decision yet. Although, it looked like the decision would be an easy one; it looked like Kendall and Carlos and probably even James too were making my decision for me—they didn't _want_ me here.

"Are you okay, Logie?" James asked, putting a hand on my shoulder.

In spite of everything, I laughed. It wasn't a lighthearted laugh either; it was more of an unsettling laugh.

"Do I _look_ okay? Why does it even matter? Aren't you mad at me too?" I retorted, before sniffling.

"Hey, look at me," James instructed as I continued to stare at my feet. "Look at me."

I reluctantly lifted my chin up so that I was looking James in the face. He gave me a small, sympathetic smile.

"I could never be mad at you…at least not for longer than an hour," he joked, but the joke fell flat.

James frowned.

"I just don't understand. You've been friends with us since pre-Kindergarten. You've known Camille less than a year. How could you choose her over us?" James asked.

I felt like curling up in the corner in a fetal position. The overwhelming feeling of guilt was crushing me. It was official: I was the worst best friend in the world.

"I'm scared, James. I feel like if I let her go, she won't come back; she'll walk out of my life forever. I can't let that happen," I admitted out loud.

"So you much rather walk out of _our _lives?" James replied.

"James, that's not fair."

"Exactly! Which is why Kendall and even Carlos are mad at you. Which is why I'm trying so hard not to be mad at you too."

Here I thought James was the only one who wasn't mad at me. Come to find out, he was on the brink of being mad at me. I woke up this morning with three best friends. From the way things looked, in a matter of moments, I would be left with no best friends.

"No James, I meant that I don't want to walk out of your lives either, so don't try to put words in my mouth, and make it sound like I'm saying something I'm not," I said.

James removed his hand from my shoulder. He turned his head away from me, picked a spot on the wallpaper, and stared at it intently.

"Whatever, Logan. We'll be fine without you," James commented.

"You or the band?" I asked.

"Both. It's not like we'll be losing someone important."

My jaw dropped. My eyes stung with tears. I always knew where I stood as far as my position in the band was concerned. I was the least respected, most expendable, most replaceable member. James, Griffin, and Gustavo thought Wayne Wayne would replace me. They used me as ghost bait because if something had happened to me, oh well, it's just me. Knowing all of this didn't make hearing James say it any easier.

"So you won't replace me?" I asked hopefully.

"No. Unless we're desperate for someone to sing backup vocals and harmonies, that is," James answered.

Without saying another word, James left me standing alone in the middle of the living room as he walked away from me, and went to join Kendall and Carlos in the bedroom. I sank to my knees, buried my face in my hands, and cried. This felt like some horrible nightmare. I just wished I could pinch myself and wake up and this all would never have happened in the first place.

XXXXX

I knocked on the front door to Camille's apartment. She opened up the door, and though initially excited to see me, she frowned when she saw the shape I was in. She no doubt saw that my eyes were red and puffy. She no doubt saw that I was sniffling practically every other second. She no doubt saw the myriad tear tracks all over my face.

"So the good news is I'm coming with you to New York City. The bad news is Kendall, James, and Carlos hate me," I blubbered.

Camille pulled me in for a hug. She stroked the back of my head with one hand. With her other hand, she rubbed small circles in my back. All the while, she gently shushed me. I felt like such a crybaby. I felt all alone.

"Logan, they don't hate you. They'll come around. You'll see," she replied.

I pulled back, and looked at her, my eyes glistening with tears.

"You weren't there. They hate me. They've never been as mad at me before as they are right now," I responded.

I kept thinking to myself that I had no reason to stay here anymore. I used to have three reasons to stay—Kendall, James, and Carlos. How quickly that changed. Thanks to James' not-so-subtle reminder, I realized that singing wasn't my calling. I may have a career in it, but it was probably because I was riding the other's coattails. Were I a solo artist, I wouldn't even _have_ a career in the music industry.

"They just need some time. The four of you have been best friends for far too long to let something like this come between you," Camille stated.

"Yeah…that's what I thought too," I sobbed.

Camille pulled me back in for a hug, and resumed trying to comfort me as best as she could. Anger, frustration, disappointment, hurt, betrayal, sadness, rage, confusion, guilt. All of those emotions flowed through me.

I hated the predicament I was in. I hated having to choose. I hated choosing. I was an indecisive person by nature. According to Carlos, it's one of my weaknesses. My lower lip quivered as I thought about Carlos.

I couldn't stay though. What was I supposed to do? Go up to them and be all, "April Fool's! I was just kidding! I'm not going anywhere!" They already came to terms with the idea of me leaving, if 'came to terms' is even a fitting expression to use. They _wanted_ me to go. They _didn't_ want me to stay.

I really didn't want to leave like this. I always envisioned that if I were to leave, I would be on good terms with the three of them. I never thought I would be leaving with them being mad at me. I was saddened by the fact that no one really said goodbye to me. I was saddened by the fact that no one said they would really miss me. Of course, I didn't say any of those things either, but then again, they didn't really give me much time to say a whole lot of anything.

Camille didn't have to be in New York City for a few days, but maybe we could fly out early. Maybe we could fly out tonight. I really couldn't go back to Apartment 2J and possibly face Kendall, James, and Carlos again. I still had to pack somehow though. Other than that, I had no reason to go back to Apartment 2J.

"It's okay, Logan. You're not alone. You have me. We'll get through this, you and me, together," Camille said.

To Be Continued…

**A/N: Wow, so that was a difficult chapter to write. Now for some shameless self-promotion. I wrote a one-shot titled "Brotherly Love" based off the episode 'Big Time Sneakers.' It contains spoilers for the episode if you have yet to see it. It's a James/Logan bromance/romance fic. I made it ambiguous on purpose. It's basically about what happens after the episode, but it still references events of the episode, which is why it is spoiler-ish. It is also categorized as humor because that is my comfort zone when it comes to writing. Anyways, I'm shutting up now. Drop me a review if you want.**


	4. Leaving

**A/N: Sorry it took me a bit longer to get this update up. I was sick the past couple of days. I think I had food poisoning or something. I'm still trying to decide if I want to start the Carlos/Logan horror/humor story now or not. I guess you'll know what I decide if you see it pop up.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Til I Forget About You**

_Leaving_

Today was Camille's last day in Los Angeles for who knows how long. She had to be in New York City tomorrow. The rest of the guys hadn't talked to me ever since I told them that I _might_ be going with Camille to New York City. I ate all my meals in my bedroom rather than the dining room, because I didn't want the other guys to be uncomfortable with me there. I tried to convince myself that I didn't mind, but who was I kidding? Of course I minded!

My suitcase was packed, and I had wheeled it out into the living room. Mrs. Knight and Katie were waiting for me. The three of us were heading to the airport together. Camille's dad would be taking her to the airport separately. I hadn't asked the other guys if they wanted to come see me off, but that's because I knew that they didn't. At the moment, they were currently in their bedroom avoiding me.

I felt like such a horrible person for leaving, but I knew that I couldn't stay. Maybe I just needed some time apart from the rest of the guys. Maybe they would get over it in time. Maybe they would eventually miss me. Sure they were mad at me now, but they couldn't stay mad at me forever, could they? All I knew was that if my staying made them uncomfortable, then I shouldn't stay.

I tried desperately to fight back the tears that threatened to spill from my eyes. Mama Knight must have seen how much I was struggling with that, because she walked over to me and wrapped her arms around me in an embrace.

"Oh Logan, they'll come around. You'll see. Just know that there _are_ people here who will miss you; I will miss you. You're like a second son to me. I know that you're not leaving forever, but that won't stop me from missing you while you are gone. Sweetie, any time you want to come back, you are more than welcome," Mama Knight told me.

I couldn't help but notice that the hug between me and Kendall's mom soon became a group hug with the addition of Katie.

"My brother's an idiot! They're all idiots! Instead of trying to get you to stay, they're pushing you away," Katie commented.

I chuckled to myself lightly when I realized that was as close as I was getting to Katie telling me that she would miss me too.

"What's so funny?" she asked, perking her head up.

"I'll miss you too, Katie," I replied.

My eyes drifted to the closed bedroom door where I knew Kendall, James, and Carlos were. I guess a part of me waited with anticipation hoping that the door would open sometime soon before we left for the airport. I didn't want to get my hopes up, but I couldn't stop myself from hoping even if I wanted to.

"Mama Knight, will you tell the guys that I'll miss them, and that I'm sorry?" I asked timidly.

She broke up our group hug only to frown at me. I averted my gaze shortly after, and stared at my feet instead.

"Why don't you tell them, sweetie? I bet they'd like to hear that from you," she responded.

I vehemently shook my head left to right.

"They probably don't want to hear anything I have to say to them," I replied.

I hated what this had done to our friendship. I felt like an outsider; it was the three of them against me. We've been the best of friends since pre-Kindergarten, and it's come to this? Over the last few days, to an outside observer, one would laugh at the idea of me being best friends with Kendall, James, and Carlos.

However, I felt like the only person who deserved to shoulder the blame was me. My suggesting that I go to New York City with Camille was the catalyst; that was the trigger. I was the one who pulled it. Not anyone else. If I hadn't, things would be back to normal as though none of this had ever happened. How much I wished that were the case.

"Maybe, but then again, maybe not. Do you want to walk away without saying anything to them and possibly regret that decision later on? Forget about what they think. Forget about what they want. If you want to say goodbye to them, then say goodbye to them," Mama Knight said.

She made it sound so simple. She made it seem like it was all black and white. I was too analytical. I was too objective. I was too considerate. All of those traits were stopping me from telling them goodbye. Yeah, I went out of my way to avoid them as much as possible, but not once did they reach out to me. Not once did they approach me. Not once did they talk to me. I closed myself off to them, but they didn't do anything to lessen the distance that was growing between us.

I could see why they were mad at me too, so I couldn't really blame them. If I was in their shoes, and they were in mine, I'd be mad at me too. I understood how it might seem like I was throwing eleven years of friendship away all for some girl. That couldn't be an easy pill to swallow. It made sense why they wouldn't want to say goodbye to me.

I cared way too much about what other people thought or felt—more than I cared about what I thought or felt. What stopped me from going to them were their feelings toward me. I wanted to say goodbye to them. I wanted them to say goodbye to me. I knew though that's not what they wanted. Somehow, what they wanted mattered more to me than what I wanted. Their thoughts and feelings came first.

"Let's just go. If we don't leave soon, I'm going to miss my flight," I said.

Mama Knight and Katie led the way, and I solemnly followed behind them. They had already made it out the front door. I stood in the threshold, and took one look back, combing over the interior of the apartment.

"Bye Apartment 2J," I said.

"Logan?" I heard a familiar voice say.

I was surprised to see that Carlos had emerged from the bedroom just in time to catch me before I left. Seeing tears stream down his cheeks, only made tears fall down my cheeks. Carlos was crying. He was crying because of me. Just when I thought I couldn't feel any worse about myself…

"Carlos, what are you—" I asked before he cut me off.

"Don't go, Logan. Please don't go. I'm not mad at you. If anything, you should be mad at me. I've been a total jerk to you the past few days. It's just it was much easier to go along with Kendall and James than to go against them. I know that's a lousy excuse, but if you'll just stay, I'll try and make it up to you. I'll do whatever you want. Just name it. Just don't get on that plane, Logan," Carlos said, his eyes glistening with tears.

Now I felt like the worst friend in the world. I couldn't help but feel like now I had to choose between Carlos and Camille. I had known Carlos for eleven years. I had only known Camille for less than a year. Carlos was one of my best friends, and right now, probably my _only_ best friend. Camille was my girlfriend. It would be so much simpler if Camille had landed a role in Los Angeles or the guys went with me to New York City. I knew neither of those scenarios was happening though.

"Logan, please. Ever since you and I met, we've never been away from each other for a day. How am I supposed to go without seeing you for six months or longer? I'll talk to Kendall and James. I'll get them to come around. Please, just don't leave," Carlos begged.

I knew in my heart of hearts that they wouldn't come around though. They were both way too stubborn to do that. I mean maybe eventually they would, but not anytime soon. Especially not James. He made his feelings toward me crystal clear the last time he and I talked.

_It's not like we'll be losing someone important._

_Unless we're desperate for someone to sing backup vocals and harmonies, that is._

If I was being perfectly honest with myself, this wasn't the first time I felt like an outsider within our group. I always joked about how "I've gotta get new friends." I was joking too…for the most part. A part of me was serious though. It just didn't make sense how someone like me could be friends with people like them. We didn't exactly have a lot in common. We loved hockey and we loved singing together. Other than that, I didn't really have anything in common with them. I always felt like the ugly duckling of the group.

James and Carlos were very much alike. Both were fun-loving. Both loved parties. Both loved establishing and boosting their cred—their rep. They, after all, were 'The Hollywood Super Party Kings of Hollywood.'

Out of all my best friends, I was probably most like Kendall. The two of us were the more mature ones. The two of us were more responsible. However, Kendall was more of a troublemaker than I was. He was often the one who came up with all of our schemes and plans. He was more of a risk taker than I was. In fact, it was often Kendall who persuaded me to go along with his plans despite my reservations.

"I'm sorry Carlos. I have to go. Camille is waiting for me. Mrs. Knight and Katie are probably in the parking lot right now waiting to pull out," I said.

"You know, I've always liked Camille, but what she's doing to you isn't right, Logan. Making you choose between her and your best friends," Carlos stated.

I was surprised by how blunt Carlos was just now. Usually, he chose his words a bit more carefully. It's not often anyone heard Carlos say that he thought something someone was doing was wrong.

"I'm not choosing her over you guys, Carlos. I just think that this is the best decision for everyone. Besides, singing isn't my thing. My dream is to become a doctor. As far as our group of friends is concerned, James was right; I'm not important. You'll be fine without me," I said, my voice breaking.

Carlos quickly closed the distance between the two of us. He threw his arms around me in a comforting hug. A part of me wanted to shove him off, but most of me found myself welcoming the gesture.

"Where is this coming from? How can you say that, Logan? That isn't true at all! You are an amazing singer! You can hit notes I couldn't even dream of hitting. Plus, if singing wasn't your thing, then why is Gustavo giving you more and more solos? Why are you getting to sing the lead more and more? I'll tell you why, because singing _is_ your thing! As far as our group of friends goes, you _are_ important. You're the brains of the group. If it wasn't for you, Kendall, James, and I would have landed in juvie countless times by now. You're the most level-headed one…" Carlos said before I cut him off.

"You mean the most boring one," I interjected.

"You're not boring! Don't forget who went 'ghost hunting' with me. Don't forget who was one half of 'The Good Luck Patrol' with me. That was you. Kendall and James wouldn't have done those things with me, but you did."

Come to think of it, I wasn't really surprised that out of all of my best friends, Carlos was the one who was trying to stop me from leaving. Out of the four of us, he was the one who had the hardest time holding a grudge. Out of the four of us, he was the youngest. He gave me a run for my money as the most sensitive and emotional one of the group.

"Carlos, I have to go. I'll be back before you know it, though. You can call me, text me, and e-mail me anytime you want, day or night," I said, pulling back from his embrace.

"Yeah, but it won't be the same," Carlos replied.

"I know, Carlos. I know. I'll see you later, okay?"

Even though a voice inside my head was screaming at me not to, I walked away from Carlos. I couldn't bear to look at him. I didn't want to see how sad I had made him. I wasn't even sure if he responded to me or not.

XXXXX

Camille and I were waiting at our gate at LAX. Any second now, they would start boarding passengers for our flight. We were seated side by side. She rested her head on my shoulder. She knew something was up with me. I was a lot quieter than normal.

"Are you okay?" she asked me.

I shrugged my shoulders. How could I answer that question truthfully? I wanted to go, but I wanted to stay. I was okay, but I wasn't. I loved Camille, which was why I was going with her, but I hated her because she was making me leave in the first place.

Saying that I was going to leave was one thing, but now that I was actually about to, it was entirely different. I was starting to second guess myself. I was starting to have doubts. I was starting to chicken out and get cold feet.

"Look, you don't have to come with me if you don't want to, Logan. I mean ideally, I wouldn't want to have a long-distance relationship, but if you want to stay, just tell me, and we'll find some way to work it out," Camille said.

"No, I want to go. I have to do this," I replied.

It had always been the four of us—Kendall, James, Carlos, and me. I had never really been off on my own. I didn't know how I would fare on my own. A part of me was scared by that. However, a part of me was admittedly kind of excited. Besides, I wouldn't be completely on my own. I would have Camille with me.

To Be Continued…

**A/N: So once again, Carlos gets in the spotlight. I have no idea how this keeps happening. Lol. I don't know how I feel about this chapter, but hopefully you liked it. I hadn't updated in a while, so at least I'm getting something up, right? Oh, and I am thinking of writing a sequel (of sorts) to my story 'Brotherly Love.' I don't know if it's so much a sequel though. It plays off the events of the episode 'Big Time Sneakers.' It'll just be a one-shot though. Starting another multi-chapter story? Thanks, but no thanks. If I do, it'll be the Carlos/Logan Horror/Humor one not a Jagan one. Anyways, yeah for some reason my Author's Notes always end up really long, so I'll shut up now. **


	5. First Day

**A/N: Sorry it took me a bit to upload this chapter. I haven't been avoiding writing. As you may or may not have noticed, I have been writing. I churned out a couple of one-shots and started another multi-chapter story since the last chapter of this story. I knew what I wanted to do in this chapter. I just haven't got around to it until now. Um…so I should probably say that last week's episode of Glee served as inspiration for this chapter. **

**Disclaimer: Yeah…I own a big, fat goose egg. And no, I don't even mean that in its literal sense…**

**Til I Forget About You**

_First Day_

It was my first day of school in New York City. I was going to a public school. Gustavo said that it was entirely up to me. He would pay for my tuition either way—even if I wanted to go to a fancy private school. I wasn't quite sure how I felt about that. Was he just being helpful? Or was he that desperate to be rid of me? At any rate, I opted for public school. He was already paying for my tuition regardless, so I didn't want to be an even bigger burden.

It felt really strange being all alone in school. I didn't have my best friends with me like I was so used to. Kendall, James, and Carlos were all back in Los Angeles. Kendall and James probably didn't even consider me one of their best friends anymore. Camille was busy filming for her movie role, so she wasn't in school with me either. I had no one.

After going to the administration office and getting a slip of paper that I would have to take to each of my classes and have my teachers sign, I went to my assigned locker. I had no trouble finding my way around school because I was also given a map. I just tried not to have my face buried in it any more than necessary. I didn't want to draw any more unnecessary attention to myself. I hated being the center of attention.

As I was opening the combination lock on my locker, some jock passing by thought it would be fun to knock me into my locker. He was probably around six foot four inches tall. He had an athletic build. He had spiked blonde hair, and was wearing a varsity jacket. A tingling sensation spread throughout my forearm as I had hit my funny bone. I slid to the floor and buried my face in my hands. Was _this_ what school would be like here?

The jock made this 'Do something about it' gesture before he walked off. It had caused a commotion as I could feel people's eyes on me. However, no one said or did anything. Nobody offered to help me up. Nobody asked me if I was okay. Of course, why would they? I was just the new kid. I was at the bottom of the totem pole.

If Kendall, James, and Carlos were here, they would've come to my aid. They wouldn't have stood for how that jock just treated me. Only they weren't here. It had been a long time since I had last been bullied. Back at The Palm Woods, I was popular. Even back in Minnesota, Kendall, James, Carlos, and I were inseparable, so unless someone had a death wish, they left me alone. The only times I had been bullied back in Minnesota were those occasions where Kendall, James, and Carlos weren't around to protect me.

I took several deep, cleansing breaths in an effort to calm my frayed nerves. I picked myself up off the floor, opened up my locker, and stuck everything but a three ring binder in there. I closed my locker and headed off to homeroom. I decided to take all honors and AP classes. I wanted to keep busy. I wanted to feel challenged. The busier I was, the less likely I would think about how much I missed being back at The Palm Woods. The less likely I would think about how much I missed my friends.

I had even signed up for show choir and hockey. I had a 'use it or lose it' philosophy. Even though I didn't have Kendall, James, and Carlos with me, it didn't mean I had to stop doing things I love. Who knows? Maybe it will help me not think about how homesick I already was.

XXXXX

Only two things were in between me and the end of my first day of school: show choir practice and hockey practice. Frankly, I couldn't wait for my first day of school to finally be over. I had been thoroughly humiliated already today.

I kept getting knocked into my locker by jocks. I gave up counting how many times that had happened so far today. My hair was still damp and messy because they also gave me swirlies three times today. I probably stunk too because they also threw me in a dumpster a couple of times. As if all that wasn't bad enough, during P.E. they had urinated in my shoes while I was showering. They made a squishing noise when I walked.

I sat in the back of all my classes. I didn't want people to stare at me. Had I sat in the front, everyone probably would have too. Luckily, none of my teachers made a spectacle of me being the new kid. They just signed the slip of paper, gave me the class syllabus and textbook, and told me to take an empty seat. Of course, it was painfully obvious that I was the new kid even if I didn't have to stand up in front of the class and introduce myself.

I quickly discovered how clique-ish this school was. No one seemed interested in me joining their inner circle of friends. No one even seemed interested in talking to me. The day was almost over, and I hadn't even managed to make any friends yet.

I walked up to the choir director and gave him my slip of paper to sign. He was in his late twenties. He had short black hair that was carefully slicked back. He wore glasses with thick lenses.

"Hello," someone said to me.

I turned around, and was surprised to see a short, blonde haired girl talking to me. She was probably around five feet two inches tall. Her hair was medium in length and was pulled back in a ponytail. She smiled brightly at me.

"You must be new. I'm Courtney," she said, introducing herself, and holding out her hand for me to shake.

I shook hands with her. "I'm—"

"Logan Mitchell of Big Time Rush. I know. I'm a huge fan!"

"Of me or the band?"

I didn't know what I found more surprising: the fact that someone actually was talking to me for the first time today or that someone was a fan of Big Time Rush even though we weren't exactly a household name quite yet. I mean we were still a fledgling band.

"Oh, definitely the band!" she replied, winking at me playfully.

My breath hitched in my throat when I saw one of the jocks from before walk over to Courtney and put an arm around her. He kissed the top of her head as he pulled her closer to him.

"Hey babe! What are you doing talking to _him_? Come on, let's go," he ordered.

"Bye, Logan," she got out before he pulled her away from me.

"Okay boys and girls, take your seats," the choir director instructed.

I noticed Courtney was sitting with that jock. I could tell from his body language that the two of them were boyfriend and girlfriend. I sat on the other side of the choir room by myself. Nobody wanted to sit next to me. The choir director passed out sheet music to all of us. It was "The Only Exception" by Paramore.

After doing vocal warm ups for a good fifteen minutes, our choir director had us start rehearsing "The Only Exception."

"Conrad, you're up," he said.

The jock stood up and walked over to the front of the class. He stood front and center as the piano started playing.

_When I was younger I saw_

_My daddy cry and curse at the wind_

_He broke his own heart and I watched_

_As he tried to reassemble it_

_And my momma swore that she_

_Would never let herself forget_

_And that was the day that I promised_

_I'd never sing of love if it does not exist_

_But darling, you are the only exception_

_You are the only exception_

_You are the only exception_

_You are the only exception_

I was actually kind of surprised that Conrad could sing. I never would have pegged him to be a singer. He had a good voice, but there was nothing remarkable about it in my opinion. I thought I was a better singer than him. It was pretty obvious though who the male lead was in this ensemble.

I had to admit that he had all the girls in the room swooning over him, particularly Courtney. He looked each of them in the eyes over the course of his solo and sang to them. It was a pretty smooth move. Conrad had a baritone voice.

I shot my hand up in the air.

"Yes, Logan?" the choir director asked.

"I'd like to audition for the solo," I stated.

I didn't know where all this confidence was coming from all of a sudden. Maybe subconsciously it was my way of fighting back—it was my way of standing up to Conrad. This school was his turf. This choir room was his turf. What better way to get him back than to steal his thunder. It's not that I had anything to prove. It's just that I knew I was a better singer, and I just wanted to be given a fair chance.

Conrad looked at the choir director in disbelief.

"Mr. Andrews, you can't be serious? You're _actually_ going to let him audition? I'm the male lead here, not him! He's just the new kid!" Conrad exclaimed.

"This has never happened before, but I encourage healthy competition. I think the only fair thing to do is let Logan audition. Your fellow choir members will be the judges. After Logan has auditioned, I want each of you to write the name of the person you feel should get the solo. Whoever has the most votes gets the solo," Mr. Andrews said.

I couldn't help but feel like this would turn into more of a popularity contest. I knew that the odds weren't in my favor, but that wasn't going to stop me from auditioning. At the very least, my fellow choir members would be aware of what I was capable of. Maybe I'd even earn their respect or even friendship.

I stood in front of the choir as the piano started playing.

_When I was younger I saw_

_My daddy cry and curse at the wind_

_He broke his own heart and I watched_

_As he tried to reassemble it_

_And my momma swore that she_

_Would never let herself forget_

_And that was the day that I promised_

_I'd never sing of love if it does not exist_

_But darling, you are the only exception_

_You are the only exception_

_You are the only exception_

_You are the only exception_

Whereas Conrad sang it straight, I changed it up and made it my own. I added vocal riffs and runs. I changed the phrasing. I added swells in dynamics. When I had finished, I felt like I had done a better job than Conrad.

As I took my seat, I looked at my fellow choir members. Some of them kept carefully blank expressions on their faces. However, some of them shook their heads impressed with my audition. That gave me hope. I looked over at Courtney. She gave me a small thumbs up, and grinned at me. Then, I looked at Conrad. He looked completely beside himself. He looked livid.

After everyone had cast their vote, Mr. Andrews stood in front of the class.

"Before I reveal who got the most votes, how about a round of applause for both guys," he said.

The class clapped their hands. There were thirteen people in the choir: six girls and seven guys. It didn't really surprise me when it was revealed that Conrad got the solo. What _did_ surprise me though was that the vote was 11-2. I voted for myself, but that meant someone else did too. I was pretty sure it was Courtney.

XXXXX

I picked myself up off the ice for the umpteenth time. Just my luck, Conrad was on the hockey team too. Of course, he was also the star player. I was quicker than him, but he was bigger than me. Plus, after the stunt I pulled in show choir, he had a bone to pick with me.

We had split up into two teams. I was the last person picked. Of course, I wasn't really _picked_. One of the teams just ended up with me. Everyone ganged up on me—even people who were _supposed_ to be my teammates. I got checked into the boards roughly. I got tripped by other people's hockey sticks.

Despite all the adversity I faced, I somehow managed to keep the score close. I was practically carrying my "team." We were trailing 4-3, and I had scored all three of our goals. Our coach blew the whistle signaling the end of the game.

After the whistle was blown, Conrad skated over to me and checked me into the boards one more time just for the heck of it. He stood over me. I ached all over, and not just from hockey practice either. I had been bullied all day, and I had the bruises to prove it.

"Stay away from Courtney! She's _my_ girlfriend! I _know_ she was your second vote in choir. If you try to pull something like that again, I'll personally see to it that you don't live to regret it!" Conrad screamed at me, before skating off, kicking a shower of ice in my face as he was leaving.

XXXXX

I glanced at the alarm clock on my nightstand. It was nine o'clock in the evening. I had already finished all my homework. I was just waiting for Camille to get back to our apartment. She had been at a studio set all day filming for an upcoming movie. While I was waiting, I decided to call Carlos.

"Logan! How are you doing, buddy?" he greeted excitedly.

I hesitated ever so slightly. I hoped Carlos didn't pick up on my hesitation.

"I'm doing good. How are you, Carlitos?" I replied.

"I'm okay. I guess. I miss you so much though. It's just not the same here without you," he commented.

I could hear the sadness and sincerity in his voice. I could tell he really meant it. I frowned. I didn't want to be the cause of Carlos' sadness. Sure, I might not be there, but he still had Kendall, James, and all of his other Palm Woods friends.

"I miss you too. More than you know," I stated.

"How was your first day of school there?" he asked.

Again, I took some time to carefully choose what I was going to say. I couldn't tell him the whole truth. I didn't want him to worry about me.

"You know. School's…school," I replied.

"How are the students treating you?" he questioned.

My breath hitched in my throat after I heard his question. This was the one question I didn't want him to ask me. I hated lying to Carlos, but I much rather he think I'm fine than for him to be worried about me when he couldn't even do anything about it.

"Everyone here is pretty nice," I lied.

"That's good. I bet you already have tons of friends there. Everybody likes you," Carlos said.

I heard the knob on the front door jiggle. Then I heard the sound of the dead bolt unlocking.

"I think Camille's back. I'll talk to you soon, okay?" I said.

"Alright. Bye Logan," Carlos responded.

"Bye Carlos."

I hung up my cell phone, and went out to the living room just as Camille walked in through the front door. I walked up to her and threw my arms around her in a hug. It was so good to see a friendly face. She seemed startled by my gesture.

"Are you okay, Logan?" she asked me, as she returned my hug.

I fought back the tears that threatened to spill from my eyes. I didn't want to cry in front of Camille. I didn't want to cry at all. I didn't want to give Conrad and his jock friends the satisfaction of making me cry no matter how much I may feel like crying right now.

"I am now that you're here. How was your day?" I inquired.

"Busy. I'm so tired right now. How was your first day of school here?" she asked me.

After having just lied to Carlos about this, I found it even easier to lie to Camille about this.

"It was good. I joined show choir and the hockey team," I answered.

"Really? That's great! I'm glad that you're still doing stuff you love," she replied.

I pulled back from her. I held her at arm's length. As I looked in her eyes, I couldn't help but feel like something was off with her…with _us_. An uncomfortable, awkward silence fell upon the both of us.

"So, what do you want to do?" I asked.

"Actually, I think I'm just going to head off to bed. I'm beat," she replied, before heading for her bedroom.

I sadly watched her go. I wanted to do something, _anything_ with her. I hadn't seen her all day. I just had the worst first day of school imaginable too. I couldn't help but wonder if this is what it would be like every day while she was filming. I sure hoped not because if so, then what was the point of me even coming with her?

To Be Continued…

**A/N: Liked it? Let me know in a review. I'm not a mind reader, people!**


	6. Drifting

**A/N: Yay! New episode of BTR tonight! It looks like it will be a fun one from the preview. Not that BTR episodes are ever NOT fun…Gah! I'm doing it again! That thing where I obsessively explain myself to the point where I over-explain. You all are probably like, "Okay! I get it already!" Yeah, so I'm shutting up now…**

**Disclaimer: I'm the youngest of eight kids. I own nothing. I just get hand-me-downs…Great. Now I'm all depressed…**

**Til I Forget About You**

_Drifting_

Camille and I had been in New York City for almost a month now. I hated how her busy schedule kept us from seeing each other. It was like she had her own life here, and that life didn't include me. I had my own life here too, and sadly, it didn't include her. It wasn't for lack of effort though. I was trying. I had been trying. I couldn't do it alone though. A relationship is a two-way street. Quite honestly, I was kind of getting sick of trying at all.

I'd wait up for her only for her to go to bed as soon as she got back to our apartment. Sometimes I wasn't even _that_ lucky. Sometimes, I would fall asleep, and when I woke up she was sleeping or other times didn't even come to the apartment at all. Or maybe she did, but she just left before I woke up. I don't know. I didn't want to know, so I didn't ask.

I cared about Camille. I liked Camille. I _really_ liked Camille. I may even have been in love with her. However, that was before we came to New York City. Now, I'm not even sure who she is anymore. We don't talk. We don't do things together. We don't kiss. We don't do couple-y stuff. She hasn't even given me one of her patented slaps. Who would've thunk I'd actually miss getting those?

I tried not to be pessimistic, but I couldn't help but wonder if maybe she had met someone and no longer had feelings for me. That would certainly explain why I hardly ever see her. That would certainly explain why it's difficult to even converse with her. It wasn't like that at all back in Los Angeles. Back then, we were on the same wavelength. There were no awkward silences in the middle of our conversations. There were times when we didn't even need to speak at all. We could just look into each other's eyes and know what the other was thinking. Now, when I looked in her eyes, I just _wished_ I knew what she was thinking. I had no clue though.

I was surprised when I noticed that my eyes were brimming with tears. I hated it here. I missed my friends back at The Palm Woods. I missed Kendall, James, and Carlos in particular. I missed Hollywood Camille. I liked her much better than New York Camille. I was so frustrated. Camille and I were drifting apart, and I couldn't seem to do anything to stop it. Things at school weren't getting any better. In fact, I didn't roll up the sleeves of my long-sleeved shirts anymore like I used to. There were far too many bruises on my forearms to do that. I was still getting bullied at school, and I didn't foresee that changing anytime soon.

Now that I think about it, Camille probably _did_ find someone else. She was probably just biding her time with me until she could upgrade to something better. After all, it's not like I was much of a catch. I was scrawny. I was geeky. I was a klutz. I was a far cry from the "tall, dark, and handsome" guy that girls my age flock to. To top it all off, I had next to nothing in common with Camille.

To make matters worse, I was listening to the radio, and I heard "Worldwide" on the weekly countdown. Despite my eyes stinging with tears upon hearing the song, I couldn't bring myself to change the station or just turn the radio off. I had noticed that my singing parts went to Carlos. Kendall, James, and Carlos sang it as though it was originally meant for just the three of them to sing; like I was never a part of the band.

"That was 'Worldwide' by Big Time Rush. It seems to have peaked at number two on our weekly countdown. It just can't quite get to the number one spot. Here's a little tidbit about the band. Big Time Rush was originally a four-member band. Its fourth member, Logan Mitchell, left the band to move to New York City with his girlfriend. Now, Big Time Rush is a three-member band," the DJ said.

I reached over and finally turned the radio off. I had heard enough of that. A solitary tear trickled down my cheek. As far as I was concerned, the DJ was an insensitive jerk! He made me out to be some sort of monster. He doesn't know how much I struggled with the decision to leave BTR and leave L.A. It wasn't an easy choice for me to make. I can't even look at my own reflection without hating who I see looking back at me. I wake up every morning regretting even coming to New York City.

It was the weekend. It was Sunday in fact. I had finished all my homework Friday night. Camille was at the studio filming. Surprise, surprise. I was all alone at our apartment. I was bored. I was bored and depressed.

Even my calls to Carlos had grown more and more sporadic. I hated how I was lying to him by telling him that everything was fine here. It's just I couldn't tell him that Camille barely spoke to me. I couldn't tell him that I rarely ever saw her. I couldn't tell him that I was getting picked on at school on pretty much a daily basis. I couldn't tell him that I didn't have a single friend here. Plain and simple, I couldn't lie to him anymore, so I kind of stopped calling him. At least that way, I wouldn't have to lie.

About the only friend I had here was Courtney. The only problem with that was she was Conrad's girlfriend. He, for whatever reason, made it his personal mission to make my life a living hell. After I had tried and failed to get the solo, Conrad must've forbidden Courtney to talk to me. The most I got from her anymore was a smile or a wave. My guess is Conrad wasn't very happy with her for her voting for me to get the solo.

I don't know, maybe it was just because I wasn't getting along with Camille, but I found Courtney to be attractive. Of course, it's not like she was single. I wasn't technically even single either. We were both taken. However, if we were both single, then maybe…For now though, it was one of those unrequited things. For all I knew, she didn't even like me like that. It's just I couldn't stand to see her with someone like Conrad. She could do so much better. I hated how he treated her. I hated how controlling he was over her.

My phone vibrated. I looked at the screen and saw that I got a text from Camille. She was done filming for the day, but a bunch of the cast had plans for the rest of the day, so she'd be home late. See? That's primarily how we communicate now—texting. I'm not even sure I remember what her voice sounds like.

As I said before, I've been trying to make this relationship work with Camille. One night when she got in, I had a romantic candlelight dinner waiting for her. As it turned out, she had already eaten recently, and was no longer hungry. She headed off to bed while I scraped her plate in the trash. Another time, I surprised her with tickets to see the Broadway version of _The Lion King_. However, she had already made other plans with her fellow cast. Then, one morning, she woke up to find flowers and chocolates on her bed. They were from me of course, but she didn't even say anything. No thanks or…anything.

But by far the worst was one time when she got back to the apartment…only she wasn't alone. She had a co-star with her. A _guy_ co-star. I tried not to be jealous and insecure, but I couldn't help myself. The way they were laughing, joking, and flirting with each other made me think there was something going on between the two of them. I didn't have the guts to confront her about it though. I guess I didn't want her to get upset at me. She'd probably deny anything was going on anyhow.

That was the last time that co-star ever stepped foot in our apartment. However, that didn't mean that Camille still wasn't doing stuff with him. Stuff that at one point in time, she used to do with _me_.

As smart as I was, I sure felt stupid. I was at a complete loss. I had no idea what to do concerning Camille. I had tried practically everything I could think of. I had tried being sweet. I had tried being romantic. I had _definitely_ tried being patient. Nothing was working though. She still continued to drift away from me.

I literally had nothing to live for. Truthfully, there were a bunch of times recently where I simply didn't even care if I woke up alive the next morning. If I were to just die in my sleep for whatever reason, it would have been okay with me. I wasn't suicidal though. I couldn't bring myself to actually take my own life. It's funny. People say suicide is the cowardly way out. I see it differently. I see it as a courageous thing. I see it as taking charge. I see it as almost empowering in a sense. Of course, I couldn't muster up the courage to end my own life. I was sort of ashamed I was even thinking about it.

My tears were flowing freely now. I sank to my knees. I clutched my temples with both of my hands. I squeezed my eyes shut. I let out all my sadness—about Camille, about the band, about school, about everything—and all my frustration out in a bloodcurdling scream.

To Be Continued…

**A/N: Wow! Okay, so that got pretty dark there towards the end. I have no idea where that came from. Thank you so much everyone who has supported this story so far! Without your support, I would have no motivation. Without motivation, there would be no story. Now that I have two In-Progress multi-chapter fics, I'm going to update My Best Friend Is a Vampire next. Barring Writer's Block, I'll try to alternate between stories, okay? **


	7. Changing of the Guard

**Disclaimer: I own the antonym of everything. You get the picture. "Fall For You" is a song by Secondhand Serenade. **

**Til I Forget About You**

_Changing of the Guard_

This was my second hockey game since I've joined the team. Our track record was 0-6. The score was tied 1-1. There were twenty seconds left on the clock. I was wide open, but Conrad wouldn't pass me the puck. It reminded me so much of our last game.

_Flashback_

There were ten seconds left on the clock. We were trailing 1-0. I was wide open, and Conrad had possession of the puck.

"I'm open!" I shouted.

Instead of passing to me, he tried to hog all the glory for himself. He was getting double teamed. He skillfully evaded one defender. However, he couldn't escape the second one. He got checked into the boards, and the other team maneuvered the puck to the opposite side of the rink just as the time expired.

_End Flashback_

Conrad was getting double teamed again. The other team knew that Conrad was our captain. They knew that Conrad was our star player. No one knew anything about me. No one even bothered to defend me. I wasn't about to let history repeat itself.

I quickly skated over to Conrad and checked one of the opposing team's defenders into the boards. By then, the other defender had checked Conrad into the boards. I scooped up the loose puck, and skated as fast as my legs could carry me. I was lighter and more agile than the defender. I was quicker than the defender. I was probably the fastest skater on the ice.

The opposing team's goalie was getting closer and closer to me. Twenty feet away. Fifteen feet away. Ten feet away. I glanced up at the clock. There were ten seconds left in play. I could hear players from the opposing team coming up behind me trying to stop me.

I faked shooting to the left, and just as I anticipated, the goalie fully committed to going left. I changed my aim, and shot to the right. The puck hit the back of the net. The buzzer blared signaling the end of the game.

We won. We had actually won. Our record was still crummy; 1-6, but at least we finally got a W. I had scored the game-winning shot. I felt like I was on top of the world. It was such a rush. I was startled when a bunch of my teammates had skated out on the ice, and hoisted me up in the air on their shoulders in celebration.

I happened to look over at Conrad. He had already taken off his helmet, and he chucked it across the rink. His gaze met mine, and I saw the dark expression in his eyes. He was probably just jealous that I was the one to win for our team and not him. I could care less though. For the first time here in New York City, people were paying attention to me. For the first time, I felt like I belonged.

XXXXX

Later that night, I had to call Carlos and tell him the good news. It wasn't the same being out there on the ice without Kendall, James, and Carlos, but hopefully, Carlos would still be happy for me. The phone rang once. Twice.

"Logan! Hey, I haven't talked to you in forever!" Carlos remarked excitedly.

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that. Hey, guess what?" I replied.

"What?"

"Our hockey team actually won today! Plus, I scored the game-winning goal!"

"Really? That's awesome! I'm so proud of you, Logan! I'm so jealous! I want to play hockey with you!"

I laughed. It was strange. This was the first time I had even genuinely laughed in a really long time. This was the first time I had really been happy since I came to New York City. It had been such a long time since I last laughed that my laugh sounded foreign to me.

"Watch, when you get back here, Kendall won't be the star player anymore," Carlos commented.

The mere mentioning of Kendall's name brought me down from my high. I felt the corners of my mouth pull downwards in a frown.

"How is Kendall? And James?" I asked.

I felt bad asking Carlos how Kendall and James were doing. I should probably be asking Kendall and James themselves. It's just they didn't even say bye to me. They probably didn't even want to talk to me. However, that didn't mean I don't care about them. That doesn't mean I don't think about them. I do think about them—everyday.

"They're good," Carlos replied quickly—a little _too_ quickly.

"Do they…you know…talk about me?" I asked.

"Logie, maybe we should talk about something else."

"Oh, I see."

I got all the answer I needed. How could I be so stupid? Here I thought even if they didn't talk about me, at the very least they would think about me. If their song being on the radio is any indication, it was clear that Kendall and James had already moved on. They had no intention of looking back either. I don't really know how I felt about them not replacing me in the band. On the one hand, maybe it was because they felt nobody _could_ replace me. On the other hand, maybe it was because they felt that they didn't need me to begin with.

"Can you tell them that I miss them? Can you tell them that I think about them every day?" I asked.

"Yeah, sure. I'll do that," Carlos replied.

A small smile formed on my face. Of course Carlos would. He was a great friend. Right now, he was probably the only friend I had. It was just too bad that he was some three thousand miles away.

"Hey, I heard your song made it all the way to number two on the weekly countdown. Congratulations!" I said.

"Thanks. You're not…mad…are you?" he responded.

"Mad? Why would I be mad?"

"Well, I kind of took all your parts."

"Yeah, but I'm sure that wasn't your decision. That was probably Gustavo's. Or Griffin's. It's okay though. They had to go to somebody. I'm actually glad that they went to you. Frankly, you don't get enough singing parts."

For whatever reason, Carlos and I usually got the short end of the stick when it came to solos and singing the lead. Most of the time, the solos went to Kendall or James. Same thing with the lead parts. It's not that I was bitter and resentful. It's just…I don't even know what I'm saying.

"Hey Logan, when are you coming back?" Carlos asked me.

I was surprised how blunt Carlos was with that question. Maybe it's because I've been away from him for a while, but I don't remember him usually being that blunt.

"I don't know, Carlitos. Are you sure people even _want_ me to come back?" I replied.

"Of course they want you to come back! We _all_ want you to come back! I'm sure once you do, Kendall and James will forgive you," Carlos said.

My breath hitched in my throat. _Kendall and James will forgive you_. So I was the one in the wrong? I was the one who needed to be forgiven? Maybe that's not how Carlos meant it at all, but that's what it sounded like to me. I felt my eyes well up with tears.

"Logan, are you still there?" Carlos asked.

"Yeah, I'm still here," I answered, my voice breaking.

"Are you…_crying_? I made you cry, didn't I? I'm sorry. I feel horrible."

"Don't. I'm fine."

I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. I have no idea why though. It's not like Carlos could _see_ my watery eyes through the telephone.

"Look Logan, I didn't mean it like that," Carlos commented.

"It's okay, Carlos. I should go. I have a big test tomorrow to study for," I replied.

"Come on, Logan. Don't be like that. Please?"

I hung up the cell phone. What I wanted to do was throw it against the wall. After my hockey game, I was on such a high. All signs of my depression were gone. Now…well now, I was feeling blue once more.

XXXXX

I was in the choir room. My time in New York City had been full of ups and downs. It seemed like there had been way more downs than ups. However, after our hockey game, I noticed things start to change around school. People actually waved to me. People actually talked to me. I wasn't even getting bullied as much anymore. Most of the time, my fellow hockey teammates would come to my rescue and the bullies would leave me alone. Of course, Conrad wasn't one of my rescuers.

Mr. Andrews was handing out sheet music for a new song. It was "Fall For You" by Secondhand Serenade. I saw that there was another solo opportunity. I raised my hand.

"Yes, Logan?" Mr. Andrews responded.

"I'd like to audition for the solo," I said.

I noticed Courtney look over at me, and smile. It wasn't easy to do something that you failed so horribly at the first time around. Picking yourself up after getting knocked down went against everything you felt like doing. I felt like just staying down. What's the point getting up if I was just going to get knocked down again? However, something _had_ changed since we won our hockey game. There was no time like the present.

Conrad scoffed. "Please! Didn't you learn your lesson the last time? What makes you think this time will be any different?" he remarked.

"What's wrong, Conrad? Are you afraid of a little competition?" I replied.

"You? Competition? Don't make me laugh!"

I had no idea where all this self-confidence was coming from. I usually had next to no self-confidence. It all boiled down to one thing though—I _knew_ I could beat Conrad. Nothing would be more satisfying than to do just that.

"Alright boys, break it up. Conrad you'll sing the solo first. Then, Logan will sing it after you. After you both have sung, everyone will write the name of the person they feel did better on a piece of paper. Whoever gets the most votes gets the solo," Mr. Andrews stated.

_Best thing about tonight's that we're not fighting_

_Could it be that we have been this way before?_

_I know you don't think that I am trying_

_I know you're wearing thin down to the core_

_But hold your breath because_

_Tonight will be the night that I will fall for you_

_Over again don't make me change my mind_

_Or I won't live to see another day I swear it's true_

_Because a girl like you is impossible to find_

_You're impossible to find_

Once again, Conrad sang it straight. He didn't put his own twist on it. He didn't make the song his own. It was good, but not great. As far as I was concerned, he left the door wide open. As Conrad took his seat, I stood in front of the class.

_Best thing about tonight's that we're not fighting_

_Could it be that we have been this way before?_

_I know you don't think that I am trying_

_I know you're wearing thin down to the core_

_But hold your breath because_

_Tonight will be the night that I will fall for you_

_Over again don't make me change my mind_

_Or I won't live to see another day I swear it's true_

_Because a girl like you is impossible to find_

_You're impossible to find_

Even though I wasn't singing to the girls in the choir, I couldn't help but notice they seemed to be swooning as I sang. I don't know what that was all about. Maybe they envisioned that I was serenading them or something. I wondered how Camille would feel about that.

I changed it up. I made the song my own. I projected. I included rises and falls in dynamics. I did key changes. I sped up the tempo in some parts while slowing it down in others.

The choir gave both of us a round of applause. I took my seat. We all pulled out pieces of paper and wrote down the name of the person we thought should get the solo. Our choir director collected everyone's votes before standing in front of the class.

"The first vote is for Conrad," he said, opening up the first slip of paper.

I chanced a glance at Conrad. He had his feet propped up, and was reclining with his hands resting behind his head. He had this smug expression on his face like he thought he had this in the bag.

Mr. Andrews opened up the next piece of paper. "The second vote is for Logan," he told us.

I knew at the very worst, I would only get one vote. In fact, that vote was probably the one I cast for myself.

"The next vote is for Logan," Mr. Andrews said as he looked at the next slip of paper.

Again, I looked in Conrad's direction. He didn't look to be very concerned even though I was currently leading in votes.

Our choir director peeked at the next slip of paper. "The next vote is for Conrad," he informed us.

We were now tied. Because there were thirteen of us in the choir, there was no possible way the final result would be a tie.

"The next vote is for Conrad," Mr. Andrews stated.

I was starting to get nervous. What if I didn't get any more votes? I was pretty sure the two votes I got so far were from me and from Courtney.

Mr. Andrews opened up the next slip of paper. "The next vote is for Logan," he said.

Once again, we were tied. I didn't want to make too big of a deal out of it, but that meant that _someone_ had swapped allegiances. Maybe he or she wasn't the only one…

"The next vote is for Conrad," our choir director said.

Maybe it was my pessimistic nature, but I had already convinced myself that I would lose again. This time, I would lose 10-3. Hey, but at least I got _one_ more vote this time. At this rate, I had to score the game-winning shot four more times before I had enough votes to earn the majority.

Mr. Andrews opened up the next slip of paper. "The next vote is for Conrad," he told us.

Great! Now I was trailing 5-3.

"The next vote is for Logan," he said.

5-4. Well, at least that's not _so _bad.

"The next vote is for Logan," Mr. Andrews stated.

Yet again, we were tied. 5-5. Three votes left. Okay, now I was convinced that I would lose 8-5.

Our choir director unfolded the next slip of paper. "The next vote is for Conrad," he said.

Like I said, 8-5.

"The next vote is for Logan," Mr. Andrews informed us.

I couldn't believe it. We were tied…_again_. 6-6. One vote left. Even though, I was pretty sure I would lose, I still couldn't believe that I actually stood a chance—no matter how small that chance may be—of winning.

I looked over at Conrad. He still remained unfazed. As cocky as he was, I really wanted to beat him. I wanted to be the one to put him in his place.

"This last vote is the tie-breaker. This will determine who gets the solo," Mr. Andrews said adding to the anticipation.

Everyone held their breath. Well, everyone except for Conrad. The implications of this one vote could be huge. It could change everything. Our choir director unfolded the last piece of paper.

"The person who gets the solo is," Mr. Andrews said, before pausing dramatically. "Logan."

To Be Continued…

**A/N: Thank you so very much to everyone who has supported this story whether it be by simply reading it, reviewing it, putting it on your favorite story list, or putting it on your story alert list. Also, a huge shout out to everyone who put me on their favorite author list and/or their author alert list. Seriously, 59 of you have me on your favorite author list. 49 of you have me on your author alert list. What is wrong with you people? Just kidding. I am so, so grateful. It makes me feel like my writing is better than mediocre.**


	8. Fallout

**A/N: I know I said that I feel like doing a one-shot based on the episode 'Big Time Pranks,' but I'm having much more difficulty with it than I originally anticipated, so it might not even happen. If it doesn't, I'm sorry for those of you who were looking forward to it.**

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Big Time Rush. It's on my Christmas list though…You hear that, Santa? **

**Til I Forget About You**

_Fallout_

I was in the school parking lot. I was halfway to my car before I heard the sound of approaching footsteps. I heard Conrad call out to me.

"Hey! Where do you think _you're _going? After all the crap you've pulled recently, you don't just get to walk out of here!" Conrad shouted.

I saw that Conrad's yelling had attracted a crowd of onlookers already. The two of us were now completely surrounded by other students. Some of them had started a 'Fight' chant even.

"I'm not going to fight you, Conrad," I said calmly.

Conrad knocked my books out of my hand. They fell to the blacktop below. I could just tell from his body language that he was just daring me to do something about it. I wasn't about to give him the satisfaction though for one. Secondly, I was no fighter.

"What are you, a chicken?" Conrad taunted, before making clucking noises.

"Conrad, stop it!" Courtney pleaded, grabbing hold of her boyfriend's shoulders.

I was horrified when he pie-faced her, shoving her aside. Luckily, she caught herself before she face planted on the blacktop.

"Shut up, Courtney!" Conrad yelled.

I may not be a fighter, but one thing I could not stand was a guy treating a girl like that. Was pie-facing Courtney really necessary? My hands clenched into fists at my sides.

"That's no way to treat a lady!" I remarked.

"She's _my _girlfriend! Not yours! I'll talk to her and treat her however I damn well please!" Conrad retorted.

Courtney placed her hand on my chest, and gently held me back.

"Don't Logan. You'll get hurt," she said.

"Who do you think you are? What, do you actually think you're somebody now? I've got news for you—you're not! You're still a nobody! It's still _my_ hockey team! It's still _my_ choir! Courtney's still _my_ girlfriend! You're nothing but a boy band reject!" Conrad yelled.

Despite Conrad's best attempts at provoking me, I maintained my composure. I picked up my books from the ground, and turned around before walking away from the fight Conrad was yearning for.

"Yep. Sure. Walk away like the coward you are!" Conrad screamed at me.

In my head, I was repeating over and over again, "Violence is never the answer." Even though a part of me wanted so badly to turn around, walk over to Conrad, and knock him into next week. After everything he's been saying about me, he has it coming.

"Conrad, please stop!" Courtney begged.

What happened next caused something inside of me to snap. Conrad had slapped Courtney in the face. He wasn't pulling his punches either. I heard the sickening sound of the blow that sounded more like a gunshot than anything else. I believed it was wrong for a guy to hit a girl.

"That does it!" I exclaimed.

I dropped my books, threw my backpack aside, turned around, leapt through the air, and tackled Conrad to the ground. Both of us had our hands wrapped around each other's throats.

"Fight, fight, fight…" the spectators chanted, gradually increasing in volume with each chant.

We rolled around on the ground struggling for dominance. Unfortunately, Conrad not only had the height advantage, but he also had the weight advantage. He ended up in a mounted position. He sat atop my chest. He pinned my arms to my sides with his legs. He started hitting me with lefts and rights to my face.

My head got jarred to the side with each and every punch. My vision had already started to blur. I felt extremely dizzy. Just when my eyes had finally focused, he would land another blow to my face. I struggled to free my arms, but it was no good. Conrad was too strong for me.

My eyes stung with tears when I realized that no one was willing to come to my rescue. Here I thought I was at least somewhat popular now. I guess I thought wrong. Or maybe people were just afraid of standing up to Conrad. Maybe they thought it was better that I was the one getting pummeled instead of them.

There was no reprieve from Conrad's onslaught. It was one blow after another after another. I could no longer see out of my right eye. It had already swollen shut. From what I could see out of my left eye, I saw Conrad's fist just before it connected with my face.

"Conrad, stop! You're going to kill him!" Courtney pleaded.

Conrad paid no heed to his girlfriend. He continued to use me as his personal punching bag. I managed to knee Conrad in the groin. He doubled over in pain. I shoved him off me. Courtney helped me to stand. I had an arm draped around her shoulder, as she had both of hers wrapped around my waist.

"Come on. I'll take you home," she said.

XXXXX

I was lying on the couch back at my apartment. I held a bag of frozen mixed vegetables over my swollen right eye. I had tissue stuffed up my nostrils. Courtney was sitting on the floor in front of the couch.

"I'm sorry about Conrad," she said.

"Courtney, you don't have to apologize for something _he_ did. Why are you even with someone like him anyways?" I asked.

Courtney stood up, and started to head for the door.

"Courtney, wait. I'm sorry I said that. Let's just forget I even said that, okay?" I asked.

I knew it wouldn't be as simple as that though for Courtney. I had already put those words out there, and no matter how much I wished, I couldn't take them back. She walked back over to the living room, and sat down in a recliner next to the sofa.

"How do you feel?" she asked me.

I couldn't get over the guilt in her voice. She somehow felt responsible for what happened to me, and I hated it. She was not to blame for what happened to me. I shouldn't have lost my cool. I should have just walked away like I originally intended on doing. I didn't want her to feel any worse than she already did, so I lied.

"I feel fine," I replied.

The truth of the matter was that I could go for some Tylenol or something right about now. I had a killer headache, and I needed something for the pain. I gritted my teeth and tried to will my pain away, but it was an uphill battle.

"You shouldn't have swooped in to rescue me," Courtney stated.

I wasn't sure what to make of her comment. I felt kind of hurt by what she said if I was being completely honest. I defended her honor, and she didn't even seem to be appreciative of that. It probably would have helped if I did better in my fight with Conrad, but it wasn't my fault I was a novice when it came to hand-to-hand combat. I was typically a pacifist.

"I couldn't just stand by and do nothing, Courtney. The way I was raised, it was not okay for a guy to hit a girl, period," I said.

"What difference does it make? It doesn't concern you! Conrad's my boyfriend. It was sweet and all, don't get me wrong, but I don't even like you like that!" Courtney remarked.

"Why are you being like this? I thought you were my friend."

Courtney got up out of her seat, and walked over to me. She bent down, and planted a kiss on my forehead. Even though she hadn't kissed me on the lips or anything, it still felt wrong to have another girl kiss me.

"Logan, you and I were never just friends," Courtney commented.

"Excuse me?" Camille hollered.

I sat up immediately upon hearing Camille's voice. The bag of mixed vegetables fell to the carpeted floor. I certainly hadn't expected Camille to be back so soon. Courtney was standing upright, and backed away from me a few paces.

"Unbelievable! You freak out about me bringing a male co-star back to our apartment, and then I come back to find some bimbo kissing you and saying that she is more than just your friend!" Camille exclaimed, her hands on her hips.

"Camille, you have it all wrong!" I cried out.

"I should probably just go," Courtney said.

"You think?" Camille commented, glaring daggers at Courtney.

Camille nearly slammed the door into Courtney's back, she was so eager for her to leave. She then turned her attention back to me. She looked furious with me.

"What happened to your face?" Camille asked, her voice softening considerably.

"That's what I was trying to tell you! I got in a fight at school. Courtney didn't want me driving with basically only one eye, so she gave me a ride back here," I explained.

Camille frowned. Her eyes were brimming with tears.

"I wish I could believe you Logan, but I don't," she said.

"What, are you jealous?" I asked.

"I'm not jealous!"

"Good! Because you don't get to be jealous! You don't get to be insecure! How many dates with me have you cancelled since we've been in New York? I lost count. Not that anything happened between me and Courtney, but even if something had, what difference does it make to you? This is the most I've talked to you since we've moved here! You don't do things with me! We never eat meals together! Most of the time, you pretend like I'm not even your boyfriend! Then, all of a sudden, just because a girl actually pays attention to me, you're magically my girlfriend again?"

"Oh my God! You are such a hypocrite, Logan! You tell me I don't get to be jealous, but what were you when I brought my male co-star to our apartment, if not jealous? Excuse me for having a busy schedule! I've always supported you and your singing. Stupid me! Here I thought you would actually return the favor and support me and my acting! What do you want me to do? Drop everything just so we can go out on a date?"

I closed my left eye, pinched the bridge of my nose, and took several deep, cleansing breaths in succession. I hated that I was fighting with Camille. I hated fights in general. I was a non-confrontational person. My breathing was unsteady. My hands were trembling. My palms were all sweaty.

"I don't support you and your acting? Really? What do you call me moving three thousand miles across the country then? You don't have to drop everything for me, but is it so much to ask for you to take a little time out of your day to tell me you love me or to ask me how my day went?" I inquired.

"Why should I always have to be the one to say 'I love you' or kiss you? If memory serves me, you've never told me that you love me! You've never kissed me! You've never asked me how my day went! Do you even hear yourself? You're getting mad at me for something you don't even do yourself! As for you moving across the country, if you're so unhappy, maybe you should just go back to L.A. then!" Camille remarked.

"Maybe I will!"

"Fine! Do it! See if I care! I don't know what I ever saw in you! I hope you die alone!"

I couldn't see out of my left eye anymore because it was clouded by my tears. I didn't know what was happening to us. We were both yelling at each other at the top of our lungs. We had both made the other cry. If Camille didn't want me here anymore, I was gone. I stormed off to my bedroom to pack my suitcase.

XXXXX

I was on my way to the airport. My right eye was still swollen shut, so I probably even shouldn't be driving, but I didn't care. Camille wanted me gone, so I was gone. I gripped the steering wheel with shaky hands.

_Logan, you and I were never just friends._

_I'm sure once you do, Kendall and James will forgive you._

_You're still a nobody!_

_You're nothing but a boy band reject!_

_Walk away like the coward you are!_

_I hope you die alone!_

I felt so alone. I had no one. I had burnt all my bridges. New York, Los Angeles, Minnesota, what difference does it make? No matter where I was, I didn't belong. No one cared about me. I was so sick of everything. I couldn't take it anymore.

There was a four-way intersection up ahead. The light had just turned red. However, instead of hitting the brakes, I pushed down even harder on the gas. The guys hated me for leaving. Camille hated me for not being content with our non-existent relationship in New York City. I hated myself for not being good enough to be anyone's friend; for not being good enough to be anyone's boyfriend. I hated myself just because I did. I wanted everything to just stop.

I sped right out into oncoming traffic. I was blinded by the headlights of a semi. I held a hand up over my eyes, shielding them. I heard the sickening crunch of metal as the semi turned my car inside out. Everything around me faded into darkness.

To Be Continued…

**A/N: And you thought Chapter 6 was dark. This is the part where you thank your lucky stars that I'm not one of the writers for the show. I've said it before, and I'll say it again. I have a bad case of FCMD—Favorite Character Mutilation Disorder. Logan just had to be my favorite character. I'm really horrible to Logan in my stories, aren't I? Wait. Don't answer that. It was a rhetorical question. Anyways, I'm building up to something, so there is a method to my madness…**


	9. Awakening

**A/N: At long last, here is the next installment of 'Til I Forget About You.' I hope the wait was worth it.**

**Disclaimer: Big Time Rush is the property of Nickelodeon. This story is only for entertainment purposes. Although, I don't know how 'entertaining' you find suicidal Logan, but yeah… **

**Til I Forget About You**

_Awakening_

When I heard the beeping of a heart monitor, I knew that I wasn't in Heaven. When I heard the beeping of a heart monitor, I knew that I wasn't dead. When I heard the beeping of a heart monitor, I knew that my suicide attempt hadn't worked; I had failed.

It was a shame too. It would have been so much easier if it _had_ worked. It would have been so much easier if I had just died back there in that car crash. I didn't want to face everybody and the myriad looming questions they had for me. I couldn't.

Why did they even care anyways? If they even cared, for that matter. If they _did_ care, they sure had a funny way of showing it. The only person from Los Angeles I had actually talked to—albeit on the phone—since coming to New York was Carlos. Now I'm supposed to believe that everyone else cares about me too? I'm sorry, but I don't.

I didn't even want to open my eyes. What was the point? So whatever was bound to happen anyways would happen sooner? Thanks, but no thanks. I wasn't ready for the questions. I wasn't ready for the fake sympathy. I wasn't ready for the stares and questioning looks I knew I would receive. I just wasn't ready, period.

So instead of opening my eyes, I just listened. For all anyone knew, I was still unconscious. It was better that way.

"Carlos, you heard the detective; there were no tire treads from Logan's car. He didn't even try to slam on the brakes. I know it's hard for you to accept, but Logan tried to kill himself," Kendall said.

"No! You're wrong! I don't care what you or the detective or anyone else says! I know Logan! He would _never_ try to kill himself!" Carlos exclaimed.

I felt like the worst human being on the face of the planet right about now. Carlos—sweet, innocent Carlos—was defending me. He was adamantly sticking by my side even though Kendall was right; I _did_ try to kill myself.

"Don't forget, Carlos; we know Logan too! We've known him just as long as you have!" James commented.

"Not recently you haven't," Carlos muttered under his breath.

"What did you just say?" Kendall demanded.

"How can you two stand there and say that you know Logan when you didn't even say bye to him when he left Los Angeles? How do you know Logan when not once since he's been in New York have you picked up the phone and called him? Did you know that he joined show choir and the hockey team at his new school?"

Kendall and James both fell silent.

"I didn't think so! Did you know that he scored the winning goal giving his hockey team their first victory of the season? Did you know that he auditioned for a solo in choir and got it? I doubt it. That would involve you talking to him, which the two of you haven't!" Carlos remarked.

Hearing Carlos put Kendall and James in their place was bittersweet for me. It was sweet because it reminded me of what a great friend Carlos really was. Through all of this, he stood by my side. His loyalty to me was unwavering. It was bitter because I didn't deserve Carlos' loyalty. I had tried to take my own life, and Carlos was certain that it was some car accident. There was nothing _accidental_ about what had happened.

"Carlos, please don't cry," James begged.

The fact that Carlos was brought to tears really pulled at my heartstrings. Out of the four of us, other than me, Carlos was the most sensitive. I wanted to do nothing more but to comfort and console him and tell him that everything would be okay. I just didn't want to blow my cover though. Everyone thought I was still unconscious after all.

"I'm crying because the two of you are here pretending like you and Logan are best buds! I'm crying because the two of you are pretending like the last four months never happened! I'm crying because the two of you actually think Logan tried to kill himself when I _know_ he would never do such a thing!" Carlos exclaimed.

One thing Carlos said really stood out to me; four months? That would mean that I've been here in the hospital for three months. Three months? Really? Had I really been in the hospital that long? How long had Kendall, James, and Carlos been here then? Where were Katie and Mrs. Knight? Where is Camille? Where were my parents?

"Carlos, I can't speak for Kendall, but I know I haven't been a very good friend to Logan lately. Frankly, I wouldn't blame him if he was mad at me. However, whether he tried to kill himself or not, we almost lost him. That's why I'm here. I don't want to lose Logan. Not now, not ever," James said.

"I'm supposed to be like the leader of our group, but I've been a terrible leader. Like James said, I wouldn't blame Logan if he was mad at me. We _did_ almost lose Logan. If I've learned anything from these last four months, it's that we're better when it's the four of us. We're not so good when it's just the three of us. It feels like a part of us is missing, because a part of us _is_ missing," Kendall stated.

As touching as their words were, it didn't change the fact that Kendall and James had practically disowned me over the last four months. They were saying all the right things now, but that did nothing for the damage their words and actions had inflicted upon me.

"You don't really think Logan tried to kill himself, do you?" Carlos asked sadly.

"It looks that way, but the important thing is that we'll get through this—together," Kendall replied.

I had to admit that now that sounded like the Kendall I remember. That sounded like the Kendall I had been best friends with for eleven years. That sounded like our leader. Kendall sounded so sure that we would get through this. I wasn't so sure.

At the end of the day, I had tried to take my own life. That scared me to no end. No matter how bad things were, it should have _never_ come to that. I wasn't suicidal. No one knew me better than I knew myself, but even I didn't recognize myself anymore. I was at a complete loss over what to do next. I had no idea what to do. I had no idea what to say.

I cracked my eyes open, and immediately regretted doing so. I was blinded by the white light, and squeezed my eyes shut.

"Guys, I think he's waking up," Carlos said.

"Come on, buddy! You can do it! Open your eyes!" James encouraged.

I tentatively opened my eyes again. Despite wanting to close them because of the brightness of the white light, I struggled to keep them open. I sat up in my hospital bed as if that would help me keep my eyes open or something. Carlos gently pushed me back down so I was in a prone position.

"It's okay, Logie. You're okay," Carlos said with tears in his eyes.

"You're in the hospital, Logan. You were in a car crash that left you in a coma for three months. We didn't know when you would wake up again. We didn't even know _if_ you would wake up again," Kendall stated.

"Yeah, so don't you ever scare us like that again!" Carlos remarked, shaking his finger at me.

Once more I felt like the worst friend in the world. My selfish actions had scared them. I just thought it would be easier for them if I were dead. That way, they wouldn't have to deal with the mess of a person I had become.

I was stunned when James rushed over to me and held both of my hands in his. I was stunned when I saw a solitary tear roll down his cheek.

"I'm so sorry, Logan! I was wrong too! I was so wrong! We need you! _I_ need you! It's just not the same without you. We reached number two on the weekly top 40 countdown. We were there for two weeks, but then we started to gradually fall off the countdown. Big Time Rush isn't a three-member band! It's a four-member band! _You're _our fourth member! All the things I said about your singing weren't true! You've come so far! I couldn't be any prouder of you! Your singing has improved by leaps and bounds since we first started. I think even Gustavo notices that. You're getting more and more solos. You're getting to sing lead more and more. More than that though, you're our friend. The four of us have been friends since pre-Kindergarten. We have been through way too much together for me to throw our friendship away now. I miss your random nuggets of sage-like wisdom. I miss your ever-present, often-annoying sarcasm. I miss…I just miss _you_," James said all in one breath.

I was practically speechless. I had never heard James say so much so fast before. I wasn't used to hearing him ramble either. Usually, I was the rambler of our group. I noticed that there was more than just a solitary tear streaming down his face; there were several tears cascading from his eyes. He was out of breath, and understandably so; that was a lot to say in such a short amount of time.

My vision was all cloudy. It took me a second to realize that it had been clouded by tears. Now I was crying too. I was crying because that was the sweetest thing James had ever said to me. I was crying because I finally realized how much he cared about me—how much they _all_ cared about me. I was crying because I almost took my life because I thought that nobody cared about me. I couldn't have been any more wrong.

Kendall must have seen that I was crying. He walked over to me and put his hand on my shoulder, and gave a gentle squeeze.

"How do I follow that?" Kendall asked, gesturing over towards James. "I'm like the unofficial leader of our group, and as such, I feel…_protective_…over all of you; especially you, Logan. I can't help but feel like I let you down. I mean you were in a coma for three months because you were in a car crash for crying out loud! How is _that_ me protecting you? I'm _so_ sorry, Logie. I've been a Grade-A jerk to you. Maybe you think that it was easy for me to stay mad at you for so long, but that was hardly the case. Every single day you were gone was sheer torture for me. Even the day you left was probably the most difficult day of my life. I _wanted_ to say bye to you before you left Los Angeles. I really did. I was an idiot though. For whatever reason, I chose instead to hold onto my stupid grudge. Not saying bye to you was something I regretted each and every day you were away. Leaders aren't supposed to be afraid, but I was. I was afraid to talk to you because I knew you were probably really mad at me for not saying bye to you. I felt like I didn't even deserve to talk to you after what I had done. The fact that you tried to commit suicide is a reminder of how much I failed you," Kendall said as a solitary tear trickled down his cheek.

There are five stages of grief. The first stage is denial. Though I consciously knew that I had tried to take my own life, I couldn't bring myself to admit that to the others.

"I didn't try to commit suicide! I'm _not_ suicidal! Come on! You guys know me! You know I'm not suicidal!" I exclaimed.

"Logan, then why did the detective not find any tire treads from your car? If you had slammed on your brakes, there would have been tire treads," James replied.

I furiously shook my head left to right repeatedly.

"I _did_ try to slam on my brakes! I remember! They weren't working though. Something must have been wrong with them!" I retorted.

Carlos backhand slapped James in the shoulder.

"See? I told you! Logan didn't try to kill himself! It was just a horrible accident!" Carlos commented.

I happened to catch the expression on Kendall's face. I could see it as plain as day in his eyes—doubt.

"Kendall, you don't believe I actually tried to kill myself, do you? I would never! Come on! You know I wouldn't!" I exclaimed.

"Quite frankly, I don't know what to believe anymore. The Logan I know would never try to kill himself, but the Logan I'm talking to now _isn't_ the Logan I've been friends with since childhood. You've changed. I'm partly to blame for that, I know. The bottom line is that I don't know what _this_ Logan is or isn't capable of," Kendall explained.

Kendall was right. Of course he was. Most of the time, he was right. This was no exception. That bothered me to no end. He doubted me. I mean he was right to doubt me, but…I don't even know what I'm saying anymore.

"Look, if what you're saying is true, and this was all just a big accident, then you should have no problem if we have the detective check out the brakes in your car," James said.

Though my heart raced after hearing James say that, I willed myself to calm down and relax. I had to keep my composure.

"Go ahead. I have nothing to hide," I replied calmly.

"Kendall, James, the two of you should be ashamed of yourselves! How could you actually think that Logan would try to kill himself? This is Logan we're talking about here! Logan!" Carlos remarked.

"Logan, you're awake!" a familiar voice gushed.

I looked over to the doorway of my hospital room and saw her standing there—Camille.

To Be Continued…

**A/N: So I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter, but at least I got something up. There's a new poll on my profile page. What genre do you think I'm better at writing? The two choices are humor and angst. Once again, the only way for your vote to be counted is for you to go to the poll on my profile page and vote there. Lastly, I have some good news; the one-shot based off the episode 'Big Time Pranks' is starting to come together nicely…in my head. It may end up as a fic after all. Here's a little summary:**

**When it came to the boys' annual Day of Pranks, Logan hasn't always eliminated himself from the competition by pranking himself…well actually, yeah he has. However, he hasn't always been the first one out of the competition. Believe it or not, he actually made it to the Final Two one year. This is the story about that one time. **


	10. Unwelcome Visitor

**A/N: What did you all think of 'Big Time Christmas'? My two favorite parts were when the boys went to the store to do last minute Christmas shopping, and Logan ended up getting bought by some lady. I also liked the part where Big Time Rush sang their duet with Snoop Dogg. The animation thingy was downright hilarious. **

**Disclaimer: See any of the previous chapter's disclaimers. **

**Til I Forget About You**

_Unwelcome Visitor_

My breath hitched in my throat. Camille. What was she doing here? How could she even show her face here after what she did? I didn't want to see her. The fact that she came to see me changed absolutely nothing. It didn't change what she did. It didn't change what she said.

"This is all your fault! You were supposed to watch Logan! You were supposed to keep an eye on him! How is him getting in a car crash you keeping an eye on him?" Kendall shouted.

"I agree with Kendall. It was bad enough that you took him away from us, but then this happened under your watch. You really shouldn't be here right now," James said.

"I have just as much right to be here as any of you do!" Camille exclaimed.

I couldn't hold my tongue anymore. Kendall, James, and Carlos didn't know what had transpired that led me to get behind the wheel in the first place. It was time that they knew though.

"Actually, no you don't, Camille. Only people who care about me should be allowed to see me. Based on the last argument we had, you made it pretty clear that you _don't_ care about me!" I remarked.

Kendall, James, and Carlos all rounded on Camille. They narrowed their eyes at Camille. Kendall even glared daggers at her. This just supported the claim that Camille wasn't welcome here.

"Logan, that wasn't me. We both said things to each other in the heat of the moment that we didn't really mean," Camille replied.

"What about the part where you said that you hope I die alone? Did you mean that?" I retorted.

Carlos gasped. I saw both Kendall and James clench both their teeth and their fists.

"Of course I didn't mean that!" Camille exclaimed.

"Right. It's easy to say that to a person confined to a hospital bed. I know better though. I don't believe you," I responded.

"Logan, I—"

"You told me to go back to L.A. You are the reason I got behind the wheel. You are the reason I was on my way to the airport when I got in a car crash. You are the reason I'm in a hospital now."

It felt so good to get that off my chest. However, there was a nagging little voice in my head that reminded me that she wasn't entirely to blame. It was much easier to blame someone else than accept blame yourself. Camille may have been the reason I was behind the wheel that night, but I was the reason I was in the hospital right now. I was the one who drove out into oncoming traffic.

"Camille, maybe you should just go," Carlos said.

"No! I'm not going anywhere!" Camille replied angrily.

"Unbelievable! He got in a car crash, Camille! A _car crash_! He almost died! He was in a coma for _three months_! Do you understand that? Come to find out, it's all because of you! Stay away from Logan!" James yelled.

Camille had tears in her eyes. However, as good of an actress as she was, I really couldn't tell if those tears were genuine or not. Wow! That's a horrible thing for me to even think, but it was the truth.

"You think I don't know that, James? I do! Every morning I wake up, I have to live with that. I know I messed up, okay? If I could go back and do it all over differently, I would in a heartbeat! I would never have come to New York City. I would never have asked Logan to come with me. I now realize how horrible of a girlfriend I've been to Logan ignoring him the way I have been. My career was more important to me than he was. Not anymore! I now know what really matters to me—_Logan_ matters to me, and nothing else," Camille said.

"Those words were sweet, Camille, but…they were just words. I don't believe any of them," I commented.

"And I don't blame you. If I were you, I wouldn't believe me either."

"Is this a bad time?" an unfamiliar voice asked.

I saw who the new addition to my hospital room was. It was a petite woman probably in her thirties. She had short jet black hair.

"I'm Detective Morgan. I heard you woke up, Logan. I'm here to collect your statement about the automobile crash you were in a few months back," she stated.

"No offense, Detective, but I don't know if Logan is up for it right now," Carlos responded.

"It's okay, Carlos. I might as well get this over with now," I said.

All of a sudden, I was very nervous. It was one thing lying to Kendall, James, Carlos, and even Camille. It would be completely different lying to a detective. She had been trained to know the difference between when someone was lying and when someone was telling the truth. There would be no fooling her.

"Okay, Logan. What is the last thing you remember before the car crash?" Detective Morgan inquired.

"I remember coming up to the intersection of 5th and Main. I noticed the light turn red, so I tried to put on my brakes, but they wouldn't work. The next thing I knew, I saw the headlights of the semi, and then that was all I remember," I recalled.

"Interesting. So you _did_ try to stop then? The reason I ask is because we found no tire treads at the crash scene, which means that you didn't slam on the brakes."

"I know, but I tried!"

"There's no reason to get so defensive, Logan."

I tried to mentally will myself to calm down. I was breathing rapidly. My heart pounded in my chest. There was no doubt in my mind that this wasn't going how I would have liked it to go, but maybe it wasn't as bad as I thought. Maybe I was being way too pessimistic.

"Why were you driving in the first place? Where were you going? Did something troubling happen that caused you to get behind the wheel?" she questioned.

I sighed deeply and out of frustration.

"I changed my mind. I don't feel like giving you my statement right now," I said.

"If you ask me—" she started to say before I cut her off.

"I didn't ask you!"

"If you ask me—this was no accident. All the evidence points to this being an attempted suicide."

"Evidence? What evidence?"

"The fact that there were no tire treads. The fact that we have several eyewitness testimonies which say that you never even tried to slow down. The fact that you are getting so defensive. The fact that you now don't even want to finish giving me your statement."

I was starting to panic. I knew that the truth would come out eventually, but I never thought it would come out so soon. I already felt so ashamed that I tried to take my own life. I didn't want the others to know too. I don't think I could handle the disappointment in me they would undoubtedly feel.

"I told you! My brakes weren't working!" I cried out.

"I'll have your brakes checked out, but there's really no need. I already know how that will turn out—nothing will be wrong with them. I want to help you, kid. Suicide is often just a cry for help," Detective Morgan commented.

"Don't do that! Don't treat me like I'm some statistic!"

The second stage of grief was anger.

"Wait a second. Logan, you tried to kill yourself? Is that true?" Carlos asked.

Hearing Carlos' meager voice broke my heart. He trusted me. He trusted me way too much. He trusted that I would never try to take my own life, but I had.

"Of course it's true, Carlos. You heard the detective; Logan tried to kill himself," James said.

"I'm not suicidal!" I yelled, my frustration boiling over.

"What do you call driving out into oncoming traffic then?" Kendall asked.

"It was an isolated incident! Suicidal implies recurring attempts of suicide. This was the only time I've tried to commit suicide, therefore, I am not suicidal!" I retorted angrily.

"Logan, we're only trying to help you here," Detective Morgan commented.

I was at my wits end with these people. My blood was boiling. My pulse was racing. I was so angry that my entire body was trembling.

"You're trying to help me? You're trying to help me! I have two things to say about that: first of all, I don't remember _asking_ for your help! Secondly, you don't even know me!" I shouted.

"I may not know you personally, but I've come across many people like you over the years," Detective Morgan responded.

I scoffed.

"You are so pretentious! Just because you've been doing this for years, you think you're so smart! You think you know everything! News flash: you don't! You don't know everything! You don't know me! I'm not like those other people!" I screamed.

"Logan…" Camille said glumly.

I rounded on Camille. My eyes darkened as I glared at her. I noticed her mouth was slightly agape as she took in the way I was looking at her.

"Don't even start Camille! In fact, what are you even doing here? I forgave you when I found out that you and James had kissed. But I'm not forgiving you for this! _You_ are the reason I'm like this! _You_ are the reason I tried to commit suicide! As far as I'm concerned, I could care less if I never see you again!" I snapped at Camille.

She started sobbing uncontrollably before she ran out of the room with her head hung low. I didn't feel the tiniest bit of remorse for anything that I had said to her. _Someone _needed to put her in her place, and I was perfectly fine if I was that someone.

"While I'm at it, get out! All of you! I don't feel up for visitors anymore!" I hollered.

Kendall, James, and Detective Morgan heeded my wish without speaking another word. However, Carlos stuck around.

"I can stick around though. Right, Logie?" Carlos asked hopefully.

"Go away, Carlos," I said softly.

"But Logan…"

"Go away!"

I could hear Carlos sobbing as he left in a hurry. I had brought him to tears, but I didn't really care. Now I was all alone, but I didn't really care. I only wanted people around me who actually gave a damn about me, and they all made it painfully clear they didn't give a damn about me, so who needs them? I sure don't.

To Be Continued…

**A/N: I actually like writing dark, suicidal Logan. Yeah…I might be a horrible person. **


	11. Intervention

**A/N: At long last, this is the chapter I've been itching to write when I first came up with the idea for this story. I just hope it turns out as good as I envisioned it would.**

**Disclaimer: Me? Own anything? *imitates Kendall's laugh* Ha! **

**Til I Forget About You**

_Intervention_

I was back at The Palm Woods now. Everyone decided that it would be in my best interest to return to Los Angeles. Everyone but me that is. That was the thing; everyone seemed to be making all of my decisions for me like I was somehow incapable of making my own decisions or something. Oh well. I suppose it was all for the best. There really wasn't anything for me in New York City anyways.

The only physical reminder that I had even been in a car crash was the brace on my right knee. I had been prescribed pain medications for my knee, and while they helped, there was always a dull pain in my knee. I had both crutches and a wheelchair. Crutches seemed like the lesser of two evils. Don't get me wrong though. Both were humiliating to use. I was mortified that I couldn't get around without the use of some sort of assistance.

Detective Morgan had called fairly recently. I don't even remember when. Anyways, she told Mrs. Knight that she had the brakes of the car I had been driving when I tried to kill myself checked out, and there wasn't anything wrong with them. That just confirmed what everyone had suspected all along-it was no car accident I was in.

From then on, everyone watched me like a hawk, even more than before they received that phone call from Detective Morgan. Here I thought that wasn't even possible. Everyone babied me. Everyone was afraid to leave me in a room by myself. The only time I really got to be by myself was when I was in the bathroom going to the bathroom or taking a shower. Kendall, James, and Carlos all insisted on helping me take a shower, but I stubbornly protested. The task was much more difficult on basically one leg, but I sucked it up because it was better than having Kendall, James, or Carlos help me take a shower.

I was currently in the bathroom "using the facilities." Really, I just wanted to be alone. I was quickly getting fed up with everyone hovering over me. I was getting annoyed by everyone going out of their way to do things for me that I was perfectly capable of doing myself. I was growing tired of everyone constantly asking me how I was doing.

"Logan, are you okay?" Kendall called out.

I guess I now knew who was standing guard outside the bathroom door. Since I returned to The Palm Woods, Mrs. Knight started enforcing a new rule. Razors were not supposed to be left in the bathroom. They didn't want to risk me having access to them. Frankly, I thought they were being pretty ridiculous; It's not like I would take them and use them to slit my wrists or anything. Contrary to popular belief, I was _not_ suicidal.

I wiped the tears from my eyes. I knew it wasn't possible, but I just wanted things to go back to the way they were. I didn't feel like their friend. I felt like their charge. I felt like someone they had to baby sit. I didn't need a baby sitter.

"Logan, can you hear me?" Kendall asked through the door.

"Yeah. I'm fine!" I shouted back.

That was a complete and total lie; I was far from fine. However, it wasn't anything that they could solve by smothering me further. They were getting carried away. I hadn't once thought about killing myself since waking up in the hospital. Of course, not that anyone would believe me. Everyone was convinced that I was some sort of ticking time bomb, ready to self-detonate at any given moment. That couldn't be further from the truth.

I gazed at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. My eyes were red and puffy from all the crying I had been doing while in the bathroom. I don't get why everyone insisted on treating me differently. From what I could tell, I still looked the same. I took a deep breath, before opening the door.

"You're okay. Thank goodness!" Kendall remarked, pulling me in for a hug.

What did he expect? Did he expect to find me a broken and bloody mess on the bathroom floor? How? There was nothing in the bathroom I could use to kill myself. Everyone made sure of that. Not that I _wanted _to kill myself.

I followed Kendall into our bedroom. The clatter of my clutches echoing throughout the apartment. James and Carlos were already there, sitting on their respective beds. They both smiled warmly at me upon seeing me. I gave them a half-hearted smile in return.

"So, we were wondering if you wanted to play some dome hockey," Kendall said.

"Not today," I replied.

Kendall tried to hide it, but I still saw the frown that flickered on his face after hearing my response. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw James and Carlos exchange a look with one another.

"Well, how about playing some Biohazard Blast 4 then?" James suggested.

"No thanks," I answered.

Try as he may, James couldn't mask the disappointment on his face either. I felt bad because I knew that I was the reason for his disappointment.

"Are you up for a little swirly slide action?" Carlos asked hopefully.

"Not really," I admitted.

Why couldn't they understand that what I really wanted was to get out of this apartment? I felt like I was a prisoner here. Ever since I got back, I hadn't step one foot outside of Apartment 2J. I felt like I was on house arrest or something. I might as well have an ankle monitor strapped to my ankle.

I heard the front door open, but whoever it was didn't say anything, so I couldn't even tell who the newcomer was. However, soon, Mrs. Knight stood in the doorway to our bedroom. She wore this uneasy expression on her face. She exhaled deeply.

"It's time," she told us.

I wasn't sure what Mrs. Knight had meant by that, but I saw both Kendall and James nod their heads in acknowledgement. Using my peripheral vision, I couldn't help but notice Carlos stare at the covers on his bed, suddenly fascinated by them.

"Come on, Logie. Let's go," James said, grabbing my arm, and gently pulling me to my feet.

Kendall handed me my crutches. I glared daggers at the offending walking implements before begrudgingly stuffing them under my armpits. Mrs. Knight led the way, followed by Kendall and James. I reluctantly hobbled off after them.

There was this strange man waiting for me in the living room on the couch. I had never seen this guy before in my life. Also in the living room was Camille. We locked eyes with one another for the most fleeting of moments, before I averted my gaze.

I heard the shuffling of footsteps as Katie joined us in the living room as well. I had an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. Something about this didn't feel…right. This all seemed…unnatural. So many people in the living room at one time. Something was up. I wasn't sure I even wanted to know what that something was.

The stranger stood up from his seat, and walked over to me, offering me his hand to shake.

"Hello, Logan. I'm Dr. Hough from the Sycamore Treatment Center," the stranger said.

I hesitantly shook the good doctor's hand only because it was the polite thing to do; only because that was they way I had been raised.

"What is all of this? What's going on here?" I asked, my eyes darting around the room wildly from person to person, frantically seeking some explanation-verbal or otherwise.

Everyone in the room gave me small smiles that betrayed the grim expressions they wore on their faces. My breathing started to accelerate rapidly. It felt like my crutches would slip from my grasp at any given second because the palms of my hands were suddenly sweaty.

"Logan, everyone in this room is concerned about you. Everyone in this room wants to help you get better," Dr. Hough explained.

"Get better? I don't need to get better. I mean, yeah my knee is a little worse for wear, but I'm fine," I replied.

I had a hunch that it wasn't my _knee_ that everyone was so concerned about. A feeling of dread hit me like a ton of bricks, nearly causing me to lose my balance entirely. My hold on my crutches tightened so much that my knuckles turned white.

"At the Sycamore Treatment Center, we help people like you get better. After staying with us, patients go on to lead healthy, productive lives, and you can too," Dr. Hough said.

People like me? What was this guy talking about? People like me! What was that even supposed to mean?

"You've got to be kidding me! Rehab? Really?" I asked, offended.

"Technically, it's a psychiatric institute," Dr. Hough corrected.

"Oh, in that case, sign me up!" I remarked sarcastically.

After much effort, I managed to turn myself around. I started to hobble my way back to the bedroom. I felt someone grab me by the arm. I looked to see who it was, ready to give whoever it was a piece of my mind for going along with this sham. It was none other than Kendall.

"Logie, wait. You tried to kill yourself. You may be able to dismiss that, but I can't. I don't want to lose you. Frankly, you're starting to scare me," Kendall said with tears in his eyes.

I shook myself free from Kendall's grasp. I wasn't sure quite what to make of our fearless leader crying. Out of the four of us, he had always been the least emotional. He had always been the rock that was strong for the rest of us. I felt tears threaten to spill from my eyes at the sight of Kendall being so emotional, but I somehow managed to choke them back.

Mama Knight walked over to me, and placed a hand upon my shoulder.

"Sweetie, I know you're scared, but you have to do this. I just want you to get better. I love you so much; I love you like you were my own son," Mama Knight told me as tears rolled down the sides of her face.

"I don't _have _to do anything! Besides, you can't tell me what to do! You're not my mother!" I retorted.

Mama Knight pulled her hand that was on my shoulder back as though she had just got burned or something. I kind of sort of felt bad that I was being so cross with her when she had never been anything but kind to me.

Katie appeared in front of me.

"Logan, please? With you, James, and Carlos, it's like I have four big brothers. The four of you are the best big brothers in the world. I've always looked up to you because you've always been such a good role model to me. I don't like _new_ Logan. I want the _old_ Logan back," Katie said, before giving me her best puppy dog face.

That look might work on Kendall and Mama Knight, but I was immune to it. I knew better. I knew that she just used it when she tried to get what she wanted.

"You already have a big brother, Katie. Kendall. So let me get this straight; now I'm not a good role model to you? Well, guess what? I don't care! I never asked to be your role model in the first place!" I exclaimed.

I firmly grasped my crutches, before jostling my way past Kendall and Mama Knight. I was now back into the living room area when James walked up to me.

"Logie, come on man. I know you hate asking for help. I know you hate admitting you need help. You _do_ need help though, even if you don't want to ask for it or admit it. You're my best friend. Even more than that though, you're my brother. I'm willing to do whatever it takes for you-even if you don't _want _me to," James said.

"Yeah, says the person who didn't even say goodbye to me when I left Los Angeles for New York! Says the person who not once picked up the phone to call me while I was in New York! What kind of a best friend does that make you? No, what kind of a _brother_ does that make you?" I retorted.

A torrent of tears cascaded down James' face. Maybe if I actually thought James cared about me I would feel guilty for making him cry, but I knew that James didn't care about me. Actions speak louder than words, and his actions said plenty.

Camille made a beeline for me. She pulled her hand back and slapped me hard across the cheek. The sound was more reminiscent of a gun being fired.

"Wake up, Logan! Do you even hear yourself right now? Snapping at the people who care about you the most. This isn't you! When I heard that you were in a car crash, I about died! My world as I knew it came crashing down all around me! It was then that I realized how horrible I had been to you in New York City. Who knows? Maybe if I had been the girlfriend you deserved, then none of this would have ever happened. Then again, maybe this would have happened no matter what. I don't know. All I know is that I love you. I would much rather be a part of this so-called 'sham' and have you hate me, than ever hear that you tried to take your own life again," Camille commented, tears streaming down her face.

"Okay, I don't know who you people are, or what's gotten into you, but I don't have to take this anymore. This has been…_fun_…but I'm out of here," I remarked.

The rhythmic sound of my crutches was the only sound that could be heard as I hobbled my way to my bedroom faster than I had ever hobbled before. This just wasn't fair! They were ganging up on me! Nobody had my back! Not a single one of them! I had entered the threshold of the bedroom before I nearly collided into Carlos.

My heart broke when I took in the sight of my best friend. He was trembling like a leaf. His eyes were red and puffy. The top of his head was naked without his lucky helmet, which lay discarded on the bedroom floor.

"Logie, when they told me about their plan to put you in rehab or whatever, I told them that I wanted no part of it; I told them that I couldn't do that to you-that I cared about you too much," Carlos said before he had to stop to sniffle.

"I totally get why you're mad at everyone else. I do. Camille ignored you. Kendall and James didn't even say goodbye to you when you left. No one even bothered to call you while you were in New York City…except for me," he continued, tears falling unchecked from his eyes.

"We used to talk on the phone everyday too. Then, it became every other day. Then it became once a week. Then, it was every other week. Finally, you just stopped calling. I thought about calling you, but I don't know, I thought you were mad at me or something. I thought maybe I had done or said something to upset you. So instead, I just waited for you to call me. I waited and waited, but you never called," Carlos recalled, his eyes glistening with tears.

I felt a pain resonate from the left side of my chest. I balanced on my good leg, and clutched my heart with my hand. I remembered that. Hearing how Carlos took it just tore me up inside. I felt like the worst person on the face of the planet.

"Then we received a call that you had been involved in a car wreck. I didn't know what to think at the time. All I knew was that it had to be just some terrible accident, because you would never try to kill yourself or anything. I remember praying-so much-that you would just live. Only, come to find out, the car crash was no accident," Carlos said.

Carlos had to take a few moments to regain his composure before he continued. I felt tears leak out of my own eyes listening to Carlos. I wanted to say something to him-anything. What could I say though? I was at a complete and utter loss for words.

"Somehow though I thought you and I were still cool. Then, not only did you kick everyone else out of your hospital room, you kicked _me_ out of your hospital room. I think that's when it hit me that something was wrong with you. As much as we all want to fix you, as much as _I_ want to fix you, I'm afraid this problem is too big for all of us. _We_ can't fix you, but you _can_ be fixed. Who knows? You may never try to kill yourself again. If so, that's great. However, if something really is wrong with you, then you _have_ to go to that treatment center. Please? If not for anybody else, then for me? I just want my best friend back," Carlos whimpered.

I pulled Carlos in for a hug. My clutches fell to the floor as I didn't need them anymore; Carlos had a hold of me now, and he wasn't about to let me fall. We both cried as we held onto each other as though our lives depended on it. My vision was blurred by tears. My body was racked by sobs.

"Okay, Carlos. I'll go. I'll go," I replied.

To Be Continued…

**A/N: All I can say is Cargan FTW! **


	12. Paparazzi

**A/N: First of all, I want to apologize for taking so long to update. As of late, I've been second guessing myself. I've been writing, but I keep thinking to myself, "I can't upload this!" So, I scrap the whole draft, and try to start over fresh. **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, but I own a whole lot of it, so yeah…**

**Til I Forget About You**

_Paparazzi_

I had finished packing. I wasn't sure how I felt about the fact that I could fit my entire life in one duffel bag. Really, I didn't even know what to take to the treatment center. I mean I doubted I would need much. I still couldn't quite wrap my head around the idea of me going to a treatment center in the first place.

"Hey Logan, are you ready? I just want you to know that I am so proud of you for doing this, Logie," Carlos said, his voice shaky.

"I've been doing some thinking. I can't go through with this. So, do you still feel proud of me?" I replied.

Carlos' mouth was agape. I could see the hurt in his eyes. After all, it was Carlos that ultimately convinced me to go to the psychiatric institute. There were five stages of grief, but they weren't always sequential. Someone could go back to a previous stage of grief. Take me for example. Right now, I was back in denial, the first stage.

"I really don't need to go to that treatment center, Carlitos. There's nothing wrong with me," I said.

I was unaware that Kendall had even joined us until he spoke.

"Don't cave, Carlos. Logan may not _want_ to do this, but he _needs_ to do this. Don't forget; he tried to kill himself," Kendall said.

The third stage of grief was bargaining.

"Yeah, but I didn't. I won't do it again. I promise. So, there's really no need for me to go to the psychiatric institute then," I stated.

"I want to believe you. Really, I do, but I don't. So as much as you might hate me for making you go to the treatment center, I'd hate myself even more if we pretended like everything was okay, like _you_ were okay, only to have you try to kill yourself again," James, said upon entering the bedroom.

I couldn't believe this. They were doing it again; they were ganging up on me. How come nobody was on _my_ side? Why couldn't anyone see that my attempt on my life was a one-time thing? I wasn't going to try to commit suicide again! What possible reason would I have for doing such a thing?

My duffel bag fell from my shoulders to the floor. I looked from Kendall to James to Carlos. I was completely beside myself. Had it really come to this? There were tears that were starting to form in my eyes. I wasn't sure if they were due to anger or sadness.

"For the last time, I'm not going to kill myself! How many times do I have to say that to you guys before you believe me? What? All of a sudden, you three think I'm a liar? Well, thanks for the vote of confidence!" I remarked sarcastically.

See what I mean about regressing? Now, I was back to the second stage of grief, anger.

"Stop putting words in our mouths. We're not calling you a liar, Logie," Kendall responded. He placed a hand on my shoulder, but I quickly shook it off.

"Do you honestly think that I'll attempt to commit suicide again?" I retorted.

"Yes."

"Then, you _are_ calling me a liar!"

I started to leave the room in a fit of rage, but James stood in between me and the doorway. He walked up to me, and threw his arms around me in an embrace. I struggled to break free, but that only made him hold onto me even tighter.

"James, let me go!" I shouted.

I slammed my fists on his back repeatedly, but he wouldn't let me go. Tears streamed down my face as I frantically tried to get him off of me. I felt my shoulder start to get moist from James' own tears.

"No, Logan. I care about you too much to continue to watch you do this to yourself. You need help," James said.

"No, James. I _need_ you to let go of me! I'm not doing anything to myself! I'm fine! I don't need help!" I exclaimed.

The blows to James' back got weaker and weaker with every strike. It got to a point where I stopped hitting James altogether. I just shook with sobs as he held me in an embrace, gently shushing me.

I don't know who I was trying to fool. Methinks I was trying to convince _myself_ that I was fine. Kendall, James, and Carlos saw that I clearly wasn't fine. I guess I was just the last one to know. It figures though. I've been an emotional wreck. I've been emotionally unstable; one second I would be screaming my lungs out at my best friends, and the next second, I would be bawling my eyes out. The worst part was that as much as I wanted to stop, I couldn't. I just…couldn't.

"Can I have a turn?" Carlos asked in a meager voice.

James reluctantly let go of me, but soon after, Carlos was the one who was holding me. Neither one of us had dry eyes. Both of our bodies were shaking with sobs so much, that it was a wonder the two of us were still standing.

"I'm…_scared_, Carlos. I don't want to be away from you guys. I _need_ you guys. I don't want to talk to strangers about my messed up life and the horrible decisions I've made. What business of theirs is it?" I whined.

"You're not alone in this, Logie. We'll come visit you everyday. I promise," Carlos said, his voice breaking.

"You can't. None of you can. At least not for three days. There's a 72 hour no visitors rule."

"Well then, four days from now, you better believe we'll be there."

Despite the tears streaming down his face, he managed to give me a small smile. It wasn't a grand gesture or anything, but it was enough to give me hope. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad. Maybe I could do this after all. The sooner I did this, the sooner I could get back to my friends.

I went to pick my duffel bag off the floor, but Kendall beat me to it. He positioned the strap over his shoulder. The two of us locked eyes with one another. His gaze softened. Out of the three of them, it was Kendall that was the most vocal about my need to go to the treatment center. In so many words, he called me a liar. However, a part of me thought that it was just because Kendall cared a lot about me. The two of us have always been really close.

"Are you and I…cool?" he asked.

"No," I admitted. "If you think I need help, then that's fine. I can accept that. What I cannot accept, what I will not accept is that despite me assuring you that I won't try to kill myself again, you don't believe me."

"James doesn't believe you either! Why are you taking this all out on me?"

"Because I'm going away for awhile. Who knows how long I'll be at the treatment center? You've been nothing but icy towards me."

"Oh, and you haven't been 'icy' to me?"

Carlos held me back as James held Kendall back. I didn't know what Kendall's problem with me was. After the way he's been treating me, after the things he's said to me lately, I think I'm entitled to treat Kendall however I want to.

"Come on guys. Please don't fight," Carlos urged.

At this moment, a mob of paparazzi entered the bedroom. Cameras were flashing like crazy. Reporters were asking myriad questions. They were talking over one another. There was no question who the paparazzi were targeting: me.

"What do you have to say about rumors that you are going to rehab?" one reporter asked me.

"Is it true that you tried to kill yourself?" another reporter inquired.

"What is your status as it relates to Big Time Rush?" a third reporter asked.

James and Carlos did their best to cover the camera lenses with their hands, but the paparazzi were swarming, and James and Carlos could only do so much. All the while, they were telling the paparazzi to shoo.

"You don't have to answer them, Logan," Kendall said to me. He then rounded on the paparazzi. "Leave him alone!"

I was barely aware of the fact that Kendall had grabbed hold of my wrist, and was pulling me behind him as he tried to get me away from the paparazzi. Carlos and James were close behind, continuing to try to run interference as well. I hung my head low. This was so humiliating. The situation was already bad enough. The last thing I needed was the media to have a field day with this.

As we made our way through The Palm Woods, the paparazzi were making quite a scene. All the other residents got their attention piqued by all the commotion, and watched the events unfold.

I wasn't truly safe from the paparazzi until we had made it into the limo. Luckily, it had tinted windows, so while we could see out, they couldn't see in. This didn't make sense. I wasn't even a famous celebrity. I was a part of Big Time Rush before they really started to become a household name. Why would the media even be remotely interested in my personal life? Or were they just that desperate for something to gossip about?

"Logan, look at me," Kendall said.

I had my face buried in my hands. I just couldn't catch a break, could I? It was a series of unfortunate events; one after another after another. I couldn't recall a time where I had cried any more than I had recently. It just wasn't fair. None of this was fair. Why was this happening to me? What did I do to deserve this?

"Hey," Kendall said, gently grabbing one of my forearms. "Don't worry, Logan. According to Jo's agent, the standard life span for celebrity gossip is only five weeks. Then, they'll move on to some other hapless victim."

"But I'm not even a celebrity! Why can't they just leave me alone?" I asked.

"Because they're piranhas who have nothing better to do with their lives than stick their noses in other people's lives," Carlos answered, annoyed.

"Don't worry about them. Just worry about yourself. Just worry about getting better," James said.

It was then, there in that limo, that I realized that I wasn't alone. I realized that I had the three best friends in the world. The way they tried to protect me from the paparazzi was admirable. Their faith in me was touching. They just wanted me to get better. It was nice to know that someone cared. It was nice to know that _they_ cared.

I wanted to get better too. I wasn't quite sure what was wrong with me. Something was wrong with me though. I haven't been myself for quite some time now. Sure, ideally it would be preferable to not start my road to recovery in some psychiatric institute, but where wasn't really important; all that mattered was that I got better. I would get better. I had to. I didn't want to let Kendall, James, and Carlos down. I didn't want to let myself down.

To Be Continued…

**A/N: To whet your appetite, and perhaps influence your vote on my poll, I will give you a bit more information about my six potential upcoming stories. The humor one is inspired by the iCarly episode 'iStart a Fan War.' Yeah…'nuff said. The Katie/Logan one explores the idea that Katie really does have a crush on one of her big brother's best friends…only it isn't James. I realized that I never even described in any extent the Logan-centric angst/hurt/comfort one. It involves mistaken identity, and Logan torture. You read that right: torture. The Carlos/Logan one involves a rock climbing accident. The Logan/Camille one involves a bank heist. Lastly, the angst one with all four guys involves a carjacking. If you have any sort of respect for me, then you won't hijack my ideas. I mean even if you do, which I sincerely hope you don't, what you write won't necessarily be what I write, but still…**


	13. Stubborn Pride

**A/N: I'm so sorry. I've been sick since this past Wednesday. I was supposed to work yesterday, but I had to call in sick. I'm still not completely over it, but I feel better than I have in a long time. **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Til I Forget About You**

_Stubborn Pride_

I was having my first therapy session at the Sycamore Treatment Center. I was reclining on a black leather sofa while my therapist sat in a black leather chair across from me. She was a middle-aged woman with short red hair and thick glasses. Despite the fact that I was lying down, I was tense. My eyes darted around the room wildly.

"Logan, why do you think you are here?" my therapist, Dr. White, asked.

"Because everyone thinks something is wrong with me," I answered, irritation in my voice.

Dr. White nodded her head, and jotted some notes down in her notepad before continuing to speak to me.

"What do they think is wrong with you?" she inquired.

"They think I'm suicidal," I replied bitterly.

The only sound that could be heard was the sound of her taking notes and the sound of my heart pounding in my chest. Right now, this was the last place in the world I wanted to be. I didn't want some stranger prying into my life.

"What about you? Do you think you're suicidal?" Dr. White asked.

"No!" I exclaimed indignantly. "It only happened once! It won't happen again!"

I sat up ramrod straight. My eyes darkened as I glared at my therapist. I pressed the palms of my hands firmly against the fabric of the sofa.

"Logan, you do realize that people don't normally try to kill themselves; not unless there is something wrong with them," she stated.

"There's nothing wrong with me! At least not enough to warrant me being here!" I shouted back.

"So you do admit that there's something wrong with you?"

"Yes! No! I don't know! Stop it! Quit trying to confuse me!"

Dr. White held her hands up innocently in front of her. Even though I was starting to get bent out of shape, she remained perfectly calm.

"I'm not trying to confuse you. I'm trying to help you. I'm trying to understand you," she said.

"Well don't! I don't want your help! I don't need your help! So just butt out!" I retorted.

"Logan, did you know that one-third of people who attempt suicide try again within a year? Did you know that ten percent of people who try to kill themselves eventually do?"

"Don't patronize me! I know the statistics!"

That wasn't me! I was different! I was part of the two-thirds who don't try to kill themselves again. I was part of the ninety percent who continue living. My eyes started to fill with tears; tears of both anger and sadness. My vision was clouded by my tears.

"Logan, any suicide attempt has to be taken seriously. Whether it was your first attempted suicide or not, something clearly led you to try to take your own life. You do need help even if you don't want to admit it," Dr. White said.

"You just think you know everything, don't you? Well you don't know me! You don't know the first thing about me!" I countered.

I couldn't believe I was screaming my lungs out at my therapist. I hated yelling. I hated fighting. I hated any sort of confrontation. It's just…I don't know. I felt like I was backed into a corner or something. I was sick of everyone treating me with kid gloves. Why couldn't they just believe me when I said that I wouldn't try to kill myself again?

"You're right. I don't know you. I don't know the first thing about you. Let's try to remedy that, shall we? Why don't you tell me about yourself?" Dr. White suggested.

"Or how about I don't, and we just pretend that I did?" I countered.

"Logan, I'm trying to help you, but I can't if you're not willing to meet me halfway."

I was shaking from head to toe. This type of physiological response was on par for me. That was why I hated getting into confrontations. Typically, I wasn't a stubborn person. However, I was convinced that without a shadow of doubt it was my own stubborn pride that was standing in the way of me getting the help that I so desperately needed.

I knew that I needed help, but I just didn't want to admit it. I guess you could say I was regressing back to the first stage of grief: denial. After all, I had always been able to fix things on my own before, so why should now be any different? Of course I couldn't ignore the fact that in the past, things had never been this bad. Still though, I viewed needing help, asking for help, as a sign of weakness. Before this mess even started, everyone viewed me as weak, someone they had to look out for and protect. How they treated me before paled in comparison to how they treated me now.

"No!" I exclaimed, shaking my head. "All you're going to do is judge me!"

"I'm not going to judge you. All I want you to do is talk to me. It will probably help for you to talk about whatever is bothering you. Plus, I'm a really good listener," Dr. White stated.

"Who said something was bothering me?"

"You're trembling like a leaf. You're bawling your eyes out. If that doesn't mean something's bothering you, then I don't know what does."

As if my argument wasn't already unconvincing, tears rolled down my cheeks. I wiped them away with the backs of my hands, but I knew it was too little too late. She had already seen them.

"No offense, but I don't care if you're a really good listener or not. Has it ever crossed your mind that maybe I don't want to talk about it? Maybe I just want to forget about it. Maybe I just want to pretend it never happened." I replied.

"You may not want to talk about it, but you need to talk about it. You can try all you want to forget that it ever happened, but that won't change the fact that it did happen. I can't just ignore that it has happened. You're so young. You have your entire life ahead of you. I would hate to see you throw it all away," she commented.

"I'm not going to throw it all away!"

"If you continue down the path you are on, then I'm afraid that you will."

"Oh really? And what path am I on?"

"A self-destructive one."

I scoffed. I eyed the doorway. I was tempted to just make a run for it. I could care less about this so-called therapy session. It wasn't doing anything for me anyways. I had this lady who pretended to care about me, but I knew that she treated all of her patients exactly the same. She was just doing her job. She didn't _really_ care about me. As soon as I left her office, she could probably care less about what I did or didn't do.

"Why isn't anyone listening to me?" I screamed. "I'm not suicidal! I'm not going to try to kill myself again!"

"I hope you're right. Maybe you are. However, why can't you acknowledge the possibility that you might try to take your life again? It may not be soon; it might be down the road. It's easy for you to say right here and now that you won't try to kill yourself again. Before you tried to kill yourself the first time, I'm sure you never thought you would ever try to commit suicide, yet you did, didn't you? There's no telling what the future holds," Dr. White said.

Something she said struck a chord with me. I never thought I would try to take my own life. I thought that was such a cowardly thing to do. Yet, I tried to do precisely that, didn't I? Sure, at this moment in time, I was convinced that I wouldn't try to kill myself again. Unfortunately, that doesn't mean a whole lot. I got the point Dr. White was trying to make loud and clear.

"Why do you care? You don't even know me," I said. At least I wasn't yelling at her anymore.

"I care because you remind me so much of my son. He was around your age when he…" Dr. White trailed off, before she had to stop to regain her composure. A few tears streamed down the sides of her face. "I came home from work one day, and found him with a rope around his neck dangling from the ceiling of his bedroom."

I gasped in horror. I couldn't imagine how Dr. White must have felt coming home to a sight like that. My heart instantly went out to her. I started to feel like the worst person on the face of the planet. Here I had been a Grade A jerk to her. In reality, my situation was bringing up old wounds for her.

"That was the day that I dedicated my life to helping troubled teens. My son was an only child. He was my baby boy. I was too late to save him, but it's not too late to save others like him. Teens like you, Logan. I know I can't ever bring my son back, but if I could just save the life of one teenager, maybe just maybe it will make up for how I was unable to save my own son," Dr. White commented.

It was eerie how I found myself relating to Dr. White's son. Like him, I was an only child. We were both around the same age when we first tried to commit suicide; the difference was he was successful, whereas I wasn't.

Hearing Dr. White's tale put things in an entirely new perspective for me. I had a great amount of sympathy for her. No mother should ever have to lose their child that way, especially when that was the only child she had. It was then that I realized what I had put everyone who cared about me through. They had almost lost me like Dr. White lost her son. They didn't though. They wouldn't. Not if I had anything to say about it.

To Be Continued…

**A/N: I don't know how I feel about this chapter. It was really hard to write. I think it was due to the fact that Logan seemed so OOC in this chapter. I guess that's because he was supposed to. The Logan we know and love would never act like this, but keep in mind that the Logan we're dealing with is dark and suicidal. Again, I apologize for taking so long to update this. If it wasn't for me having gotten sick, I would have updated sooner. **


	14. Progress

**A/N: Haha, so I loved 'Big Time Guru.' Logan and his swagger totally stole the show. Although Carlos believing in a fortune-telling parrot was a close second in my opinion. He's so gullible. Lol. I loved James saying, "I decided to make more eye contact with you guys." *stares at Logan creepily* Hehe. Oh, and did you notice how James spent most of the episode following Logan around? Plus, Logan supposedly "stole" James' swagger…I'm just saying that Jagan is really starting to explode ever since 'Big Time Sneakers," and this episode is no exception. Haha, if only there was a swagger app. I could use a few pointers myself seeing how I have no swagger. *awkward silence* *crickets chirp* Right, I'll be quiet now before I diss myself any further…**

**Disclaimer: Do I even need to say anything? I think you get the point by now. At least I'd hope so…**

**Til I Forget About You**

_Progress_

"I'm so sorry about your son, Dr. White," I said sincerely.

"Thank you, Logan," she replied, giving me a small smile of gratitude.

"And I'm sorry that I've been a bit…rude. It's just I'm so…frustrated…by all of this."

It was strange. I knew this woman for less than an hour, yet I already felt at ease with her. Though I consciously knew it wasn't the case, it kind of felt like I had known her my whole life. I guess it was all a matter of finding that common ground with her; once I found that, once I was able to relate to her, she felt less like a stranger and more like someone I could let my walls down around.

"There's no need to apologize, Logan. It's perfectly understandable. It's weird; as a therapist, I'm supposed to remain objective, but I find that the more my patients get to know me, and the more I get to know them, the better I can help them," Dr. White said.

"I know. One of the reasons I was so set against this whole thing was because I didn't want a stranger prying into my personal life. I mean on the one hand, I am aware that a complete stranger has a better chance of helping me because a stranger doesn't know me and thus has no bias. However, on the other hand, before you told me something personal, I had no desire to tell you anything," I replied.

Something else that struck me as odd was that as soon as I said that, I fell silent. It was almost as though I was at a loss for words. Thinking that I was comfortable enough to talk to Dr. White about my problems and actually _talking_ to her about my problems were two entirely different things.

"There's no pressure here, Logan. You can talk to me whenever you're ready. If you're not ready now, that's fine. If you are, then that's great too," she commented.

I sighed deeply. I was truly at a crossroad. I could do one of two things; either I could pull back and retreat, or I could face my problems head on in an attempt to help make things better.

"Honestly, I'm pretty sure that I'm clinically depressed," I admitted.

I couldn't believe I just admitted that out loud. I felt so ashamed. I mean I was never a happy-go-lucky person like Carlos, but depressed? I was a little uneasy. Exactly how depressed was I? Would I have to rely on antidepressants just so I could feel better? I really didn't like the idea of having to take "happy pills."

"What do you think led to your depression?" Dr. White questioned.

"Well, I guess it all started when I left L.A. for New York City," I answered.

"Why did you leave for New York City?"

"My girlfriend at the time…" I trailed off as a tear rolled down my cheek. "Camille landed an acting job in NYC, and wanted me to come with her."

Camille…I really didn't care for my referring to her as my ex-girlfriend, but that's what she was, wasn't she? I still wasn't quite sure how I felt about her yet. As easy as it was for me to blame Camille for all of this, I knew that this wasn't entirely her fault. It's just…I don't know. The way she feels about me is wishy-washy. Either she really cares about me, or she really…_doesn't_.

"I don't understand. Why did your moving to New York make you depressed? Was it because of the friends and family you left behind?" Dr. White inquired.

"Yes, and no. I mean I _did_ leave friends and family behind. Well, Mrs. Knight and Katie aren't _technically_ my family, but they practically are. Besides, Mrs. Knight is my guardian while I am living here in L.A. Anyways, I got into a huge fight with a couple of my friends before I left for New York," I explained.

More tears fell from my eyes. I remembered that day like it was yesterday even though I would very much like to forget that day entirely. Even though what I told my therapist was true, it was my fight with James that stood out to me the most. I was kind of surprised I even mentioned that I fought with _a couple _of my friends.

"What did you fight about?" Dr. White asked.

I stood up from the sofa suddenly. This was too much for me. I couldn't do this anymore. The emotional wounds were still so fresh. They were still so…raw. I couldn't talk bad about my friends; they were my _friends_. I didn't want Dr. White to blame them for the train wreck that I had become. If she wants someone to blame, then she should just blame me; I was the one who let myself get depressed. I was the one who tried to kill myself. I was the one who had to live with the repercussions of my actions.

"What did you fight about?" Dr. White repeated.

"It doesn't even matter! They're not the reasons why I got depressed! They're not the ones who drove me to attempt suicide! I am! They're the best! So leave them out of this!" I exclaimed.

"Logan, calm down. As great as it is to hear you take responsibility for your actions, there's more to this story, isn't there? There's something you're not telling me. You were fine a little bit ago, and now you're all upset. Was it something your friends said?"

"Are you listening to me? I said it wasn't their fault!"

What did she want me to say? That James said Big Time Rush would be fine without me? That Kendall, James, and Carlos would be fine without me? That James said I wasn't important to the band? That James said I wasn't important to them? That in so many words James said all I was good for was singing backup vocals and harmonies? Well, she can forget it.

How do I even still remember all of that? That was months ago! I thought I had moved past this. I thought this was all water under the bridge. If so, then why was this still upsetting me? Why did I remember every single word James said to me like he had _just_ said it to me a few seconds ago?

"Logan, friends don't make friends depressed. They certainly don't drive friends to the point where they feel like killing themselves is the only way out."

I repeatedly shook my head. "Stop it! Stop it! Stop it! It's not their fault! You don't even know them! I told you! It was my fault! I was stupid! I was selfish! I was a coward!"

"Logan, your loyalty to your friends is admirable. I just have to wonder if your friends have always shown you the same loyalty. Here's what I think; I think that your friends weren't too pleased that you wanted to leave L.A. with your girlfriend. You got into a fight with them shortly before leaving, and they said some pretty hurtful things to you. After all, you even said that was probably when your depression first started."

I was stunned speechless for a fleeting moment as I was in complete awe of how spot on she was with her assessment. It was truly amazing how perceptive this lady really was. Despite my best efforts at trying to lead her in another direction.

"You're right," I said, my voice softening out of defeat. "But you're also wrong. My _friends_ didn't say hurtful things to me; only one of them did. James commented on things I was already insecure about. That's just kind of how he is though. And I don't mean the part about him saying hurtful things. I mean that he is passionate about everything he does. So even when he is mad at someone, like me for example, he's well…passionate," I replied.

"Okay then. Well, what did James say?" Dr. White asked.

This lady just didn't give up, did she? The more I thought about it, the fact that she didn't give up easily probably was more of a credit to her line of work. She probably wouldn't be that successful of a therapist if she stopped asking questions when patients said that they didn't want to talk about it anymore.

I begrudgingly decided to appease her. At least it would get her off my back. "I feel like I should first tell you that I'm in a boy band. Or at least I used to be. Big Time Rush," I said.

"I thought you looked familiar," she commented.

"Come again?"

"BTR didn't really start to get mainstream until fairly recently, but locally, word had spread about you guys while you were still a member. My daughter is a huge fan. I even took her to see you guys in concert."

I didn't even know how to respond to that. I think I was leaning towards horrified. I could just picture her going home and telling her daughter how one of her patients used to be a member of Big Time Rush. Dr. White would probably then go on to tell her daughter how she thought I was suicidal and mentally unstable. Then, she'd probably stop being a fan of BTR.

"I'm sorry for interrupting you. What were you saying before?" Dr. White asked.

"Oh, right. James told me how I wasn't important to the band or our group of friends. He said about the only thing I was good for was singing backup vocals and harmonies. The thing is…he's right. Kendall is a hockey star and a born leader. He's good at this whole boy band thing and he doesn't even have to try. James is a ladies' man. This whole boy band thing is _his_ dream, so of course he would be awesome at it. Carlos is a people person, and a really good dancer," I said.

"What about you? Where do you fit in?"

"That's the thing; I don't. Not really. Sometimes I ask myself how I even ended up being friends with Kendall, James, and Carlos in the first place. I have next to nothing in common with them. I'm smart. That's seriously about the only thing I have going for me. The other three are…well…they have troublemaking tendencies. I'm usually the one telling them their plan is a bad idea. I'm usually the one pointing out all the things that could go wrong. They say that I'm pessimistic and scared of everything. I'm sure they think I'm a huge buzz kill. As far as this whole boy band thing is concerned, James is right; all I'm good for is backup vocals and harmonies. I mean I guess I don't _completely_ suck at singing and dancing, but compared to the others…well, there is no comparison really."

Hearing me say all that out loud, made me think that perhaps I really was pessimistic. Or maybe it was just my depression talking. I couldn't quite make up my mind on that one. All I knew is that I felt _really_ sad all of a sudden. I sensed impending waterworks.

"Frankly, I think the reason I always go along with the others, the reason I'm still friends with them is that without them, I'd have no friends. I mean I guess I'm popular at The Palm Woods…by association. Or at least I was before this whole rehab business. Look at my school in New York. I didn't have a single friend. The only person I considered a friend, Courtney, she had no desire to be my friend," I stated.

"I think you are being entirely too hard on yourself. I think you just lack self-confidence," Dr. White replied.

Funny. I thought she said she wasn't going to judge me. What do you call what she just said then? Anyhow, it wasn't like she was telling me anything I didn't know. I already knew that I didn't have a whole lot of self-confidence. As for her thinking I was being too hard on myself, that was just one person's opinion.

"I think we're done for the day," I said, before leaving the room.

"Logan, wait. Come back," Dr. White called out to me, but her call went unanswered.

To Be Continued…

**A/N: So, I have a rough draft for the first chapter of my possible next story; the Logan torture one. It's called 'Doppelganger.' I also came up with a name for the Katie/Logan story. It's called 'A Different Kind of Kogan.' Also, my birthday is coming up. It's January 22nd****. I'm pretty sure I'll be older than any of my readers or reviewers. Please don't make me tell you my age. I'm in the 21-30 range. That's all I'm saying. **


	15. Only the Tip of the Iceberg

**Disclaimer: I do not own Big Time Rush.**

**Til I Forget About You**

_Only the Tip of the Iceberg_

It was time for my second therapy session at the Sycamore Treatment Center. The only thing I was required to do here was attend my therapy session once a day. That was the highlight of my day or the bane of my existence.

I still couldn't have visitors for another two days. The day I was finally allowed to have visitors couldn't come soon enough. The only person I really talked to here was Dr. White, and that was only when I went in for my therapy session. Other than that though, I was pretty much isolated from everyone; I stayed in my room, and my food was brought to me.

Cell phones and laptops were prohibited here, so there was no way of even contacting the outside world. That's pretty pathetic, huh? Calling everything outside of the Sycamore Treatment Center "the outside world." Anyways, so there was no calling, texting, instant messaging, or getting on the internet. Heck, we could be living in a post-apocalyptic world right now, and I wouldn't even know it because it was outside the Sycamore Treatment Center.

I had plenty of time to simmer down since my last therapy session. After thinking things through with a clear head, there is a strong likelihood that I may have overreacted. I had a tendency of being overly sensitive. When that happens, the best thing for me is time and space. Let me cool off on my own and on my own terms. Kendall and Carlos know this. Apparently, so does Dr. White. James doesn't though. Usually, when he and I get into a fight, he chases after me rather than leave me alone and let me cool off.

The fourth stage of grief was depression. That was a pretty accurate way of describing how I felt right now: depressed. I was so lonely here. I missed my friends. Logically, I knew that I had been apart from them longer when I was living in New York, but somehow it seemed like an eternity since I had seen them last.

"Hello, Logan," Dr. White greeted, giving me a professional smile as she entered the room.

I wasn't sure if her smile was genuine or not. It was hard to tell. I mean she could very well still be upset with me because of how I behaved yesterday. Frankly, I wouldn't blame her if she _was_ still upset with me.

"I'm really sorry for how I acted yesterday. That wasn't me. I mean technically, I guess it _was_ me because I was the one who behaved in such a manner, but what I meant to say was that it wasn't a true representation of the person I normally am. If that even made sense…" I rambled.

Dr. White laughed. I stared down at my feet. I usually only rambled when I was nervous or uneasy. In this particular instance, I wasn't sure whether I was nervous or uneasy. My thoughts drifted for a moment. I thought of Camille. She always thought my rambling was cute. I missed her too. So much. I would give anything for things to go back to the way they were before this whole mess even happened. For us to be together and happy again. The only problem was that as much as I wanted to forget about everything that happened between then and now, I couldn't. Too much had happened, and I couldn't ignore it or try to run away from it any longer.

"Apology accepted. I had actually forgiven you long ago. Just so you know, I was never upset with you. Believe me, I've received much worse. In fact, your outburst yesterday pales in comparison to some of the outbursts of other patients," Dr. White said.

"You have to understand though that I am really good at solving problems, as long as they're not mine. When it comes to my own problems, not only am I not good at solving them, but I don't even like to admit that I have any to begin with. On the off chance that I _do_ admit I have problems, I turn away other people's help because I like to try to handle my problems on my own," I explained.

Dr. White simply nodded her head. She didn't look the least bit surprised at anything I was saying to her.

"It's a matter of pride then. That is a perfectly natural response. None of us like to admit that there is something wrong with us. Denial is an extremely common defense mechanism. We often shy away from asking for help because we have this conception that asking for help is a sign of weakness when it is not. As much as we might want to always be able to stand on our own two feet by ourselves, we can't always do that; sometimes we need the help of others just to stand on our own two feet, and Logan, that's okay," Dr. White said.

I didn't quite know what was going on; maybe it was because I was on some sort of roll, but I couldn't stop myself from confessing even more things to her about myself.

"It's hard to say who really was responsible for me wanting to commit suicide because it was nobody's fault, yet at the same time, it was everybody's fault, including mine. You see, the way I deal with my emotions, well I compare it metaphorically to a bottle. Every little thing that hurts my feelings or upsets me fills up the bottle. Once the bottle is so filled up that it can't possibly hold any more, it overflows; that is when I either have an emotional breakdown and cry, or have an outburst and yell. But, you see, even though one thing causes the metaphorical bottle to overflow, it by itself isn't enough to cause the bottle to fill up," I told her.

I didn't even allow her a chance to respond, before I continued on.

"I know that probably isn't the _best_ way for me to deal with my emotions, but regardless, that's how I do it. I've always done it that way for as long as I can remember," I commented.

"You're right. There _are_ better ways for you to deal with your emotions. Having said that, I also realize how extremely difficult it is for you to change your ways, especially given how that is all you have ever known. Let me ask you something; why do you think you deal with your emotions the way you do?" Dr. White inquired.

I shrugged my shoulders. Now that I think about it, I never have given much thought to _why_ I deal with my emotions in such a manner. I just did it because I've always done it that way, I guess.

"I don't know. Maybe because I'm not confrontational. I don't like the physiological reaction my body has to being in a confrontation; my heart feels like it's in my throat, my palms get all sweaty, my pulse accelerates, my hands shake, my knees wobble," I answered.

"So when someone says something that upsets you or hurts your feelings, you just…turn the other cheek because you want to avoid a confrontation, correct?" she asked.

"Yeah, I guess so."

"What makes you so certain there will even _be_ a confrontation?"

"I'm not, but it's better to be safe than sorry, right?"

"So it's also because you are pessimistic."

That was more of a statement than a question. I took some time to let all this sink in. Surprisingly, it was all so very revealing. It was providing me with great insight. I was learning things about myself that even _I_ didn't know. For example, I never knew that the reason why I deal with my emotions the way I do was because I was both pessimistic and non-confrontational. I had no idea those three things were even connected.

"Let's back up a bit, shall we? Let's go back to the way you deal with your emotions; your metaphorical bottle. Leading up to your attempted suicide, was there anything else you can think of that could have filled up your metaphorical bottle? Perhaps something happened in New York," Dr. White conjectured.

"Yeah. A lot happened in New York," I replied, being as vague as I could.

I already felt me close myself off to her once more. Yet again, the walls she had spent so much time and effort to knock down went right back up. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. My eyes stung with tears. The most painful memories I had took place in New York. It was as clear as day to me now that going there was a huge mistake. Why would I want to relive that again? I tried so hard to shove it to the far recesses of my mind.

"What happened in New York?" Dr. White questioned.

I twiddled with my thumbs absentmindedly. I firmly pressed my lips together, and shook my head back and forth. Somehow, some tears had managed to make it into my mouth, and I could taste their saltiness.

"Logan, I am so proud of you. Come on. You are doing so good. You have made more strides, bigger strides, faster than most of my other patients. I realize this isn't easy for you, but remember what we talked about before? It's okay for you to ask for help so that you can stand on your own two feet. That's what I'm here for; I'm here to help you. I'm on your side. So let me in. Let me help you," Dr. White pleaded.

"New York was horrible. I had…" I said, before I was interrupted by a sob. "I had no one. Sure, I moved there with Camille, but she never had any time for me. She was always so busy. I tried. I did everything I could possibly think of. I got her gifts. I made her meals. I made plans for the two of us. None of it mattered though. She always had some excuse; she had already ate or had plans to go eat. She was too tired, or she had already made plans with co-stars. Eventually…I stopped even trying. What was the point?"

This was hard. This was _really_ hard. I hated how I was villainizing someone who I cared so deeply about even if we were no longer together. I made her seem like such a horrible person when she wasn't; she wasn't a horrible person at all. Though I'm sure that Dr. White disagreed.

I had to stop to regain my composure. I sobbed uncontrollably for I don't even know how long. Dr. White handed me a box of tissues. I used them to wipe my nose and dry my eyes. By the time my frayed nerves had calmed down, there were I'm sure near two dozen tissues strewn about.

"School wasn't any better. I got beat up and bullied every day. The main antagonist, Conrad, I don't even know what I did to him, but he had it out for me from day one. Of course, it didn't help that I was interested in a lot of the same things he was; I was in show choir, and I was on the hockey team," I said.

"Maybe he felt threatened by you," Dr. White suggested.

"Why would _anyone_ feel threatened by me?"

"Maybe he thought you were trying to steal his thunder."

"But I wasn't! All I wanted was to fit in! All I wanted was to feel like I belonged!"

I started crying all over again. I was an emotional wreck. I hated it. Dr. White probably thought I was a big crybaby. I was sensitive and emotional yes, but I would hardly call myself a crybaby. That was the thing too; usually, I didn't even cry this much. To make matters worse, I didn't even know _why_ I was crying.

"There's nothing wrong with wanting to fit in. There's nothing wrong with wanting to feel like you belong. Look, maybe we should stop for the day. Thank you for sharing with me, Logan," she said.

I was telling her a lot about myself, but truthfully, it was only because I had no one else to talk to, and I felt as though I _needed_ to talk to someone about _this_. I'm not sure, but she probably thought she was making a lot of progress with me. What she didn't know was that everything I have told her was only the tip of the iceberg. There was still much that I had yet to tell her. There were even things that I intentionally left out.

To Be Continued…

**A/N: I kind of feel like this chapter sucked. I by no means am a therapist. I also have never been to a therapist. It's kind of hard to write how a therapist thinks and talks when you have absolutely no idea; when you have nothing to base it off of. Oh, and what the heck is up with the air date for the next new episode of BTR? First, it was 'Big Time Songwriters' on January 17****th****. Then, it was January 21****st****. Then, they decided 'Big Time Crush' would air before 'Big Time Songwriters,' and the former would air on February 5****th****. On a more positive note, I am ecstatic that the Logan torture fic is starting to pull away in my poll. This is a weird thing to say, but I am glad you all (well, most of you) want to read about Logan being tortured as much as I want to write about it. Lastly, I came up with a title for the Logan/Camille fic in my poll; "No Way Out." I edited my poll accordingly to reflect the potential future stories that I have come up with titles for.**


	16. Dangerous Secret

**A/N: So I've archived a quarter of a million words under my pen name, but if you consider my author's notes and disclaimers and such, it's probably only like 200,000 words. Lol. **

**Disclaimer: I still own nothing. **

**Til I Forget About You**

_Dangerous Secret_

"It's time for your medicine, Logan," a nurse announced.

I was prescribed 20 milligrams of Prozac a day to help me deal with my depression. So, once a day, a nurse came by and brought me my medicine; one pill in a little plastic cup. I brought the container to my lips, opened my mouth, and tilted it upwards.

"Open your mouth for me, please," the nurse said.

I did as she asked, and after looking in my mouth, she left satisfied that I had taken my medicine like I was supposed to. At least that's what _she_ thought. Just like I had the past two days, I hid the pill underneath my tongue. The nurses didn't see the pill in my mouth anymore, and that was good enough for them.

I closed the door to my room. Then, I removed the pill from my mouth. I unzipped the front pocket of my suitcase. I pulled out a Ziploc bag, and undid the seal. I dropped the pill into the bag, which now had three pills in it. I sealed the bag back up before stuffing it back in the front pocket of my suitcase. Finally, I zipped the front pocket of my suitcase back up.

There were many reasons why I wasn't taking my Prozac. First of all, I didn't really feel like I _needed_ to take any antidepressants. I was confident that I could get better without the assistance of any drug. Besides, it's not like I was going to try to commit suicide again. But if I were to, it was nice to have…options. Surely overdosing on antidepressants was less painful than getting in a car crash, right?

I wasn't sure how long I would be here at the psychiatric institute, but if I was here for the standard life span of celebrity gossip, then I would be here for five weeks. Since there are seven days in a week, then I would be able to stash away thirty-five pills by the time I'm out of here. That's not even counting the pills they might send home with me when I can finally leave this place. I mean I'm sure they would want to keep me on antidepressants even when I'm not here, just to be on the safe side. The Ziploc of pills is just an insurance policy; just in case.

I glanced at the clock on the wall and saw that it was almost time for my daily therapy session with Dr. White. I opened my door, closing it behind me as I left for Dr. White's office.

XXXXX

"Hello, Logan. How are you feeling today?" Dr. White asked.

"All things considered, I'm good," I replied.

I took a seat on the black leather sofa while Dr. White went and sat in her chair. She got out her pen and notepad. I was past the point where I was bothered that she sat and took notes the whole time I was dredging up painful memories.

"I was thinking that since tomorrow you can have visitors, we could spend our session today talking about your friends. How does that sound?" Dr. White questioned.

"Uh…sure," I replied uncertainly.

I tried to swallow past the lump that was starting to form in my throat. I fidgeted with the collar of my short-sleeved shirt. Was it just me, or was it suddenly stuffy in here? I folded my hands together on my lap in an attempt to hide the fact that they were shaking from Dr. White.

"So how long have you known your friends?" she inquired.

"Since we were five years old. We met playing peewee hockey," I answered.

"What were your friends' names?"

"Kendall, James, and Carlos."

Maybe I was just being paranoid, but she seemed to be doing a lot of scribbling on her notepad all of a sudden. What exactly was she writing? Even though it was pointless to try, I found myself craning my neck in an effort to get a better look.

"Why don't you tell me about each of your friends?" Dr. White suggested.

"Though we've all had our…_disagreements_…it was Carlos who has always stuck by me through everything. I think you really get a feel for who your friends are when you move away; the whole time in New York, Carlos was the only person from L.A. I talked to," I said as a frown flickered on my face for the briefest of moments.

"What is Carlos like?"

"He's practically everything I'm not. We're pretty much polar opposites. He's outgoing, energetic, fun-loving, and a real people person. Some would even say that he is reckless. Out of all my friends though, it is Carlos that gets me to come out of my shell the most. I really don't understand how he and I came to be friends, but I am extremely grateful that I have him as a friend."

Once more, she was busy jotting notes down in her notepad. As she was preoccupied with that, I inwardly wondered if there was any significance to why I talked about Carlos first out of all my friends. I mean all _four_ of us were close.

"Which of your friends do you want to talk about next?" Dr. White asked.

"Kendall's kind of like the leader of our group. He's really protective of the rest of us, but especially me and Carlos. I think it's because Carlos and I are the youngest. Kendall may not be the oldest, but being a leader suits him. He's usually the one that comes up with all our schemes…er…_plans_…I may be the brains of the group, but I panic under pressure, and Kendall always comes up with the answers. I actually think that he is the one who came up with my nickname, Logie. Somehow, it stuck," I responded.

Relative to the amount of information I provided her with, she was taking an awful lot of notes. I wasn't sure if that was necessarily a good or bad thing. I kind of felt like we were going backwards; well, _she_ wasn't going backwards, I was. Our session today seemed much more stiff. It was almost as if I didn't speak unless I was spoken to. I wondered what my therapist thought of _that_.

"Tell me about James," Dr. White said.

"Of the four of us, he's the oldest. He's the reason we're all living out here in L.A. now. You see, becoming a pop star has always been his dream. Now that I think about it, Kendall's actually the reason we're all living out here in L.A. now. Originally, Gustavo wanted to move Kendall out to L.A. to become a pop star. However, Kendall said he wouldn't go unless Gustavo took all four of us and made us a band," I answered.

I wasn't sure why I was telling her how we ended up in L.A. I don't really think that was very important in the grand scheme of things. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Dr. White scribbling down even more notes. Why did that bother me so much today?

"Anyways, so James is very much a ladies' man. Back in Minnesota, he _always_ got the girl. He hasn't had a girlfriend here in L.A. though…_yet_. Although there was that one time when he…never mind. People who don't know him typically think he's arrogant, self-absorbed, and narcissistic, but he's really not that bad. He's just…_misunderstood_. He always gives everything 110 percent. He's passionate like that," I said.

"James? Isn't he the one you said you got into a fight with before you moved to New York?" Dr. White asked.

"Yes, but we've made amends since then! We always do! All four of us are really horrible at holding grudges! This is no different!"

She buried her face in her notepad, and went on a writing spree. I tried not to think much of it, but I had already reached my limit. I couldn't take it anymore. I stood up from the sofa in a fit of rage.

"Will you stop that? What are you writing anyways?" I demanded.

She held her notepad flat against her body, hiding its contents from my line of vision. Dr. White was clearly startled by my behavior. I was trying to be on my best behavior, but my skepticism was getting the best of me.

"You know I can't discuss that with you, Logan. Why don't you have a seat and try to calm down?" she suggested.

"What's the point?" I retorted. "Why are you acting so differently today? I thought you said that you weren't going to judge me?"

"I'm not judging you, Logan."

"Then what's with all the notes you're taking?"

She flipped her notepad over and set it on the armrest of her chair. She made eye contact with me and took a deep breath before speaking.

"I'm concerned about you, Logan," she answered.

"Why? I'm fine!" I exclaimed, refusing to sit back down on the sofa.

"I respectfully disagree. Instead of continuing to move forward, I feel like we're going backwards. Yesterday, it seemed like we were able to converse with one another much more freely. Now, it seems like you only speak when spoken to, and that concerns me. Plus, you're a bit on edge, and you're getting awfully worked up."

I threw my hands up in frustration. I knew that this wasn't helping my case any, but…I don't know; I guess I was just scared that Dr. White would be able to find out what it was I was hiding. If she were to ever find out that I wasn't taking my medicine, I'd be stuck here much longer than five weeks. I couldn't have that. I had to think of some way to be less…_suspicious_.

I flopped down on the couch, buried my face in my hands, and cried. As much as I wanted to say that this was all an act, it wasn't; the tears were very real. My body shook with sobs.

"I'm sorry for being…such a…jerk. It's just this is all…too much. It feels like…I'll never…get out of here. I…need my…friends. I miss them…so…much!" I said through intermittent sobs.

There was no doubt that the floodgates behind my eyes were open now. Myriad tears streamed down the sides of my face. I was crying so hard that I couldn't even see straight. There was a never-ending salty taste in my mouth from the tears that kept making their way into my mouth.

I felt the couch sink from the added weight of Dr. White. She took a seat beside me on the couch. I noticed her start to put her arms around me in an embrace, but then she pulled back. I honestly wasn't sure why she pulled back.

"We're really not supposed to do this, but I think I can make an exception," Dr. White said before she wrapped her arms around me in a hug.

I rested my head on her shoulder and continued to cry my eyes out. Ideally, I would have liked it if it were any of my friends consoling me right now, even Camille, but this would have to do for now.

"Hey, you're not a jerk. I'm sure this is really difficult for you, so I think I can cut you a little slack. Besides, even though I haven't known you all that long, I feel like you are a kindred spirit. Your friends will be here tomorrow. I bet they miss you just as much as you miss them," she said softly to me.

I had no doubt in my mind that Dr. White now thought that in addition to me being a crybaby, I was needy. She said she wasn't going to judge me, but based on my recent behavior, how could she _not_ form some sort of opinion about the way I was acting?

I had mixed emotions about finally being able to have visitors tomorrow; I was obviously excited to be able to see my friends at long last. However, I also had so many questions: Who would be by to see me tomorrow? How would they act around me? What would they say to me? What would I say to them? What if they found out I wasn't taking my meds?

So I was excited, nervous, anxious, worried, sad, and happy. I guess the only way I would find the answers to all my questions was to wait until tomorrow when my friends came.

To Be Continued…


	17. Altercation

**A/N: So, let me just tell you that this feels really weird going from writing a humor story ('My Best Friend Is a Vampire') to an angst story ('Til I Forget About You') and back again and again. I honestly am perplexed as to how I'm able to pull it off in the first place if I even am pulling it off…**

**Disclaimer: I own just as much of BTR as you do. Yay! Wait…what?**

**Til I Forget About You**

_Altercation_

I had just finished tricking a nurse into believing that I had taken my meds again. Just like before, once she left, I discreetly closed the door. I walked over to my suitcase, and unzipped the front pocket. I retrieved my Ziploc of pills. I undid the seal, and removed the pill from underneath my tongue. I dropped the medicine in the bag, and just as I was resealing the Ziploc, I heard the door open, and realized quickly that I was not alone. I hastily finished sealing the bag before stuffing it in the front pocket, and zipping it back up.

"What are you doing with those?" Carlos asked.

I chuckled uneasily. I could hear the disappointment in his voice. I could see it written all over his face. One thing I had learned about Carlos and his emotions was that they were very pure. When he was sad, he wasn't just kind of sad, he was completely sad. When he was disappointed, he wasn't just sort of disappointed, he was wholly disappointed.

"What am I doing with what?" I replied.

"Are those your meds? Why aren't you taking them?" he inquired.

I laughed nervously. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that there really wasn't a good way to answer this question. The bottom line was that I wasn't taking them even though I _should_ be.

"You're making _way_ too big of a deal out of this, Carlos! It's just _four_ pills!" I exclaimed.

"They can help you get better though! Don't you want to get better?" Carlos asked.

"Get better? Why do I need to get better? What's wrong with me?"

"You seriously can't be asking me that! You tried to kill yourself! From the pills your hiding, it looks like you're going to try to kill yourself again!"

"How come no one seems to be listening to me? I'm _not_ suicidal!"

I was shaking with rage. I was getting sick and tired of everyone thinking that I wanted to kill myself. No matter how much I told them otherwise, it just seemed to fall upon deaf ears. Quite frankly, I felt betrayed by Carlos. Of all people, I thought I could count on him. I thought he would never turn his back on me. I thought he would always believe me. I thought wrong. Just like everyone else, he thinks I'm a liar.

"Okay, then you wouldn't mind if I took your stash of pills and showed your therapist what you've been doing," Carlos said.

I stood in front of my suitcase spread eagle. I couldn't allow Carlos to do that. I didn't understand why he was behaving like this. My heart was pounding in my chest. I didn't like this one bit. I hated confrontations. Carlos knew that. So then why did he insist of making a confrontation out of this?

"Logan, get out of the way. Why can't you see that I'm only trying to help you?" he questioned.

"Help me?" I replied incredulously. "You're not trying to help me! You're trying to rat me out!"

The two of us fought over the zipper on the front pocket of my suitcase. He was trying to force it open, while I was struggling to keep it shut. I fought valiantly, but I knew that ultimately, it would be a losing battle. Carlos had always been stronger than me.

"Carlos, stop it!" I screamed.

He managed to get the front pocket open just enough to stick his free hand in there, and pull out the Ziploc of pills. He made a mad dash for the door, but this was where I had a slight advantage. I had always been faster than him. He opened the door ever so slightly, but I slammed it shut, and put my body in between Carlos and the door.

"I can't let you do that," I said.

He held the bag of pills high above his head, but this is where again, I had a slight advantage. I was slightly taller, and therefore had a slightly longer reach. I jumped up and grabbed hold of the Ziploc. Now, we both had a hold of it, and neither one of us wanted to let go.

As we were both pulling, we were both also kind of turning. He was trying to get to the door while I was trying to get back to my suitcase. Now, we had swapped positions; he was standing by the door and I was where he was standing not too long ago.

I startled him when I conceded the bag to him. He was a bit off balance. I placed the palms of both my hands on his chest and shoved him backwards with all my might. Carlos' body crashed into the door like he was checked into the boards at a hockey rink.

"Ow!" Carlos cried out as the doorknob made contact with the small of his back.

His hand instantly reached for his injury. His face was contorted in pain. With his back pressed against the door, he slid down until he was sitting on the floor. I saw that tears threatened to spill from his eyes. I gasped in horror at the realization that I had caused this; I _hurt_ Carlos.

I stood there frozen in my tracks for I don't even know how long. I _wanted_ to go make sure Carlos was okay. However, what I wanted and what actually happened were two entirely different things.

My gaze found the Ziploc of pills. It lay there abandoned on the floor. Carlos must have dropped it when he…when I…after the…_incident_. I felt like the worst person in the world for wanting to go and grab the bag of meds while I still had a chance. Don't get me wrong. Another part of me felt like I should go check on Carlos. It's just that the part of me that wanted to snatch the meds nearly made me sick to my stomach. That part of me _obviously_ didn't have his priorities straight.

I don't know how, but the next thing I knew, I was kneeling beside Carlos. My feet weren't working before, so I had no idea how or why they were working now, but I wasn't complaining because they took me exactly where I wanted to go.

"I'm so sorry, Carlos," I apologized, reaching my hand out to place on his shoulder.

"Don't touch me!" he yelled back, shrinking back before I even had a chance to touch him.

I was startled by his reaction. Honestly, I think he was startled by his reaction too. This was highly uncharacteristic behavior from Carlos. Then again, I'm one to talk. Nowadays, it seems like _all_ my behavior is uncharacteristic behavior. My hand remained suspended in mid-air.

"I just want to…" I started to say before I was interrupted.

"Don't!" Carlos retorted.

"If you would just let me.."

"I said don't!"

My bottom lip quivered. All I had wanted to do was check his injury just to see how bad it was, but he wouldn't even let me do that. _Of course_ he wouldn't let me do that. Not after what I just did to him. Not when I was the _reason_ he got injured in the first place.

"You hate me, don't you?" I asked, my voice cracking. "I wouldn't blame you if you did. Heck, I hate myself. I don't even know why I'm acting like this! I don't _want_ to act like this, but I can't help it. I'm _really_ sorry I hurt you, Carlos. You can hurt me too if you want; that way we'll be even."

I was crying hysterically now. Carlos reached over and gently cupped my chin with his hand. He tilted my head so that I was looking him in the eye. He looked to be on the verge of tears himself. He was making soft shushing noises.

"I'm not going to hurt you. I'm okay, Logie, really. It doesn't even hurt that much anymore. If you don't believe me, you can see for yourself," Carlos said.

He turned his back to me so I could get a better look. With a shaking hand, I grabbed the soft cotton material that covered his back. When I went to lift his shirt up, he hissed in pain as the article of clothing brushed over his injury. A fresh wave of tears streamed from my eyes.

I inhaled sharply when I saw the condition his back was in. There was the beginnings of a welt forming just to the right of where his left kidney was located. The area around where the doorknob left an impression was black, blue, and purple. I scooted back in terror. I was crying so hard now that I couldn't see straight.

"Logie, it's okay. I'm okay," Carlos insisted.

I vigorously and repeatedly shook my head. I was so disgusted by what I had done to Carlos that I could practically feel bile start to climb up my esophagus. Suddenly, my head felt really heavy; so heavy that I couldn't hold it up any longer.

My head fell into Carlos' lap. His legs were fully outstretched. My head now rested on Carlos' thigh. I buried my face deeper in Carlos' jeans as he ran his hand through my hair repeatedly.

The seconds and minutes started to blur together. I wasn't sure how long we sat like that, but I could feel my body start to relax. I gradually got less and less tense. My sobs were slowly starting to subside.

"I won't tell anyone about the pills. That will just be our little secret. But you have to do something for me; you have to start taking your meds. Do you think you can do that for me, buddy?" Carlos asked.

I didn't trust my voice, so I merely nodded my head. I was starting to scare myself. Who I am hates who I have been. I hurt him physically and emotionally, yet he was the one holding _me_. He was the one trying to make _me_ feel better.

The two of us fell into a comfortable silence for quite some time. Even though no words were spoken, we were both enjoying the other's company. Something was bugging me though. I was trying not to make a big deal out of it, but I had a feeling it would keep nagging me until I got some answers.

"Where are Kendall and James?" I asked in a voice barely louder than a whisper.

"They're outside waiting in the car. None of us were really sure if you would want to see them or not. So we kind of all decided that I would go in first and kind of test the waters. If you're up to it, I can go ahead and call them or text them to come in," Carlos said.

I didn't answer right away. I honestly was a little confused. Why wouldn't I want to see Kendall and James? Or was that just Carlos' nice way of saying that they didn't want to see me? I mean yeah, things were a little rocky before I left, but I'd like to think that they had my back. I'd like to think that was all water under the bridge.

"Will you?" I asked timidly.

I needed my friends; _all_ of my friends. I needed to see their faces. I needed to hear their voices. I had gone without them for 72 hours. In my opinion, that was 72 hours too long. I guess you could say that I was in the fifth stage of grief: acceptance. I accepted the fact that I was a mess. I accepted the fact that for the first time in my life, I was completely and utterly dependent on my friends. I couldn't do this alone. The past three days were proof of that.

"I'm texting them now," Carlos informed me, whipping out his cell phone.

XXXXX

As soon as I saw Kendall and James enter my room, my face lit up. I immediately ran over to them, and gave each of them a great big hug. I think I startled them with my enthusiasm, but they didn't complain.

"It's so good to see you guys! You have no idea!" I remarked.

"We missed you too, Logan," Kendall said.

"Are you…_crying_?" James asked, the concern evident in his tone of voice.

I bashfully attempted to get rid of the evidence by wiping my eyes with the back of my hand. I even laughed a little bit.

"Yes, but these aren't sad tears. These are happy tears," I replied.

As Kendall and James walked further in my room, Kendall stepped on something. It made a sort of crunching sound. My breath caught in my throat as I realized what it was he had stepped on. He bent down and picked up the Ziploc of newly crushed pills.

"What is this?" Kendall asked.

"It's nothing!" I answered perhaps a little too quickly.

I looked over at Carlos. He made a 'my lips our sealed' gesture much to my relief. However, that did absolutely nothing when it came to the gravity of the situation I currently found myself in.

"Oh, Logan," James said with the same disappointment that Carlos had in his voice earlier when he first discovered my stash.

"Are these your…pills?" Kendall inquired.

"Kendall, you're overreacting. It's only four pills! I can hardly overdose on four pills!" I replied.

"Is _that_ what you were trying to do? Save up your pills until you had enough to overdose? Why would you do that? Do you think this is fun for us? You're _supposed_ to be here to get better!" Kendall yelled at me.

Naturally, I started crying my eyes out once again. Really, this didn't even surprise me anymore. I was normally an emotional person as it was, but being in this place for three days without being able to see any of my friends or loved ones made me an even more emotional person. It made me an extremely moody person.

"Kendall, stop it. You're upsetting him!" Carlos said.

Kendall rounded on Carlos, narrowing his eyes at him. Carlos gulped nervously, backing up a few steps. I stood there like a blubbering idiot doing nothing but cry.

"Wait a second. Did you _know_ about this?" Kendall asked of Carlos.

"Well, yeah, but I…" Carlos started to respond.

"And what were you going to do about it?"

"Nothing. Logan promised me…"

"Nothing? Nothing! You were going to do nothing! I don't care _what_ Logan promised you! You shouldn't have believed him! Open your eyes, Carlos! He had a secret stash of pills! He was going to use them to attempt suicide again!"

James got in between Carlos and Kendall, shielding Carlos from a very enraged Kendall. He always had anger management issues, and I knew that I was the one who set him off this time around. Just like I was the one who hurt Carlos earlier. I couldn't do anything right, could I?

"Take it easy, Kendall," James said.

"Take it easy? Take it easy! Am I the only one who sees what's going on here?" Kendall commented.

I couldn't just stand by and watch as Kendall took his anger out on James or Carlos. I was the one he was angry at. If he was to take his anger out on anybody, it should be me. I walked over to him, and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Kendall," I said sincerely.

He roughly swatted my hand away; maybe a little _too_ roughly. I hissed in pain as I grabbed my wrist. I could see the fury and disappointment in his green eyes that suddenly looked cold.

"You're sorry? That means absolutely nothing to me, _Logan_!" he remarked. He even said my name with such disdain. "For someone so smart, how can you be so stupid? How can you be so selfish? Did you even once think about how your actions would affect the rest of us? Did you?" Kendall screamed at me.

"Okay Kendall, that's enough!" James said, grabbing Kendall from behind, holding his arms behind his back.

"James, let me go!" Kendall demanded.

"Not until you calm down!" James replied.

I was so scared that Kendall might hurt James. I was scared of Kendall, period. I had never seen him like this before. I've seen him angry before, but he was never _this_ angry. I couldn't stop my tears from falling even if I wanted to. I just kept thinking about what a huge disappointment I was to Kendall. I kept thinking about what a failure I was as a friend.

"Okay, I'll calm down," Kendall said. "You know what? I can't do this anymore, Logan! Take your pills or don't take your pills. Kill yourself or don't kill yourself. I don't care! Because as far as I'm concerned, I'm done with you!" Kendall remarked, before shaking himself free from James' grasp and leaving my room.

I stood there shocked. Did that really just happen? Today was supposed to be such a happy day too. Now, I was pretty sure that I just lost one of my best friends for good.

To Be Continued…


	18. Promises

**Disclaimer: Nickelodeon didn't sell me the rights to Big Time Rush for my birthday! Darn it! **

**Til I Forget About You**

_Promises_

My legs gave out on me as I sank to my knees. I couldn't believe this was actually happening. It all seemed so surreal. A seemingly never-ending supply of tears fell from my eyes. I was so overcome with grief that my entire body shook from head to toe. Kendall's last words echoed in my ears as though they were on repeat.

"Kendall hates me!" I sobbed.

James knelt down beside me, and gathered me in his arms. He rubbed small circles in my back. I buried my face in his chest, and cried. I was comforted to some extent by James, but on the whole, I was still very much inconsolable. I started hyperventilating.

"Just try to relax buddy, okay? Breathe. That's it. In and out. In and out. There. You're doing great!" James said, encouraging me.

"Carlos?" I called out, my head perking up. "Where's Carlos?"

Carlos was instantly at my side. He placed a hand on my shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. I immediately felt relieved that he hadn't turned his back on me as well. It was bad enough that I had already lost one of my best friends today. I couldn't stand the thought of losing another.

"I'm right here, Logie," Carlos replied.

"You guys hate me too, don't you?" I asked, sniffling.

"Of course not!" the two of them answered in unison.

I wanted to believe them; really, I did. However, my pessimism was clouding my judgment. I had convinced myself that they were only saying what I wanted them to say in order to appease me. I was damaged goods. Nobody wanted damaged goods.

"Kendall doesn't hate you either," James commented.

"Yeah. Just give him time. He'll come around," Carlos added.

"What if…" I sobbed. "What if he doesn't?"

"He will," James replied.

"You don't know that!" I exclaimed.

"You're right," Carlos said, before James elbowed him in the ribs.

In spite of everything, that brought a small smile to my face. I watched with amusement as Carlos narrowed his eyes at James, and rubbed his sore ribcage.

"Ouch! What was that for?" Carlos whined.

"You're not supposed to tell Logan that Kendall might not come around!" James retorted.

"I wasn't finished! If _someone_ hadn't interrupted me, I would have told Logan that he doesn't know that Kendall _won't_ come around either!"

Even I had to admit that Carlos had a point; I didn't know that Kendall wouldn't come around. All four of us didn't exactly have the best track record when it comes to holding grudges. Then again, I'm not sure that's something that people are boastful about even if they _do_ have a good track record when it comes to holding grudges.

Still though, a part of me wondered how long this would last. For now, it was just the three of us-me, Carlos, and James. That was only because Kendall had a problem with me; he wanted to have nothing to do with me anymore since he was "done" with me. The fact of the matter was that Kendall _didn't_ have a problem with James or Carlos.

Kendall was the unofficial leader of our group. It's not like we had some sort of established pecking order. Frankly, James, Carlos, and I weren't exactly leader material. I braced myself for the inevitable; James and Carlos would eventually rally behind their leader, leaving me completely friendless.

I hated the predicament I was putting James and Carlos in. Essentially, they had to choose between me and Kendall. I knew what a difficult decision that must be for them, and I didn't want them to have to make it. Don't get me wrong. I wasn't making them choose. It's just that the more time they spend with me, the more they will jeopardize their friendship with Kendall. It was a lose-lose situation. No matter what, we wouldn't be a foursome anymore; we would only be a trio.

"Logan, what's wrong? Are you okay, buddy?" Carlos asked, waving his hand in front of my face.

"You guys should go after Kendall," I blurted out.

James and Carlos wore similar shocked expressions on their faces. They traded confused looks with one another.

"What?" James asked.

I looked at the clock on the wall; anything so that I wouldn't have to look James or Carlos in the eye. I didn't want to see the pain I was causing them. I pulled back from James' embrace as well.

"I'm late for my therapy session," I said, trying to keep my emotions in check.

"Are you kidding? It's the first day you're allowed to have visitors. I'm sure your therapist will understand," James responded.

I usually didn't have trouble voicing my opinion, but for some reason, I was having difficulty finding the right words to say. I wanted to choose my words carefully because I didn't want to hurt them unnecessarily. However, I _did_ want them to get the message loud and clear.

"You shouldn't have to choose between me and Kendall," I said.

"Logan…" Carlos started to say before I interrupted him.

"Which is why I'm choosing for you. Go be with Kendall," I told them.

James firmly grabbed me by both of my shoulders and shook me. I had reduced him to tears. They streamed down his face.

"Stop it, Logan! Don't talk like that! You're not making any sense! We're not going to just abandon you, so you can forget it!" James remarked.

"You've done it before. Why should now be any different?" I asked.

James let go of me as though my words had literally burned him. I could tell that my words alone were like daggers through his heart. I didn't want to have to bring that up again, but I was left with little options. I saw words trying to form on his lips, but nothing was vocalized.

"It's just like you said: you guys will be fine without me," I commented.

"No we won't! We promised each other that we would always stick together ever since we were in peewee hockey together!" Carlos commented.

Carlos was crying fervently. I didn't feel good about making two of my best friends cry, but I needed to get them to let me go.

"Kendall already broke that promise!" I remarked.

"So you're just going to go and break the promise too?" Carlos replied.

"Why can't you see that I only want the three of you to stick together? Face it, Carlos; it's not the four of us anymore."

"How can you give up so easily?"

I couldn't keep my emotions in check any longer. My vision was quickly blurred by a haze of tears. Why couldn't they understand that I wasn't giving up? Why couldn't they understand that this wasn't easy for me? I needed my friends, but I wanted the three of them to stay friends, so what I _wanted_ trumped what I _needed_.

"Well, I promised that I would visit you everyday, and I'm _not _breaking that promise!" Carlos said emphatically.

"So you're willing to throw your friendship with Kendall away? Just like that?" I asked.

"What are you talking about, Logan? I don't see why I can't be your friend _and_ Kendall's friend."

"Continuing to be my friend will ruin your friendship with Kendall. As much as I want your friendship, I want you and Kendall to stay friends even more. Besides, you seem to forget that you, James, and Kendall were friends before you even met me. We all met in peewee hockey, but before it was the four of us, it was just the three of you."

It was true though. The three of them became fast friends. It took a little more time with me. I was one of those slow-to-warm-up types. There was an ache in my chest when I thought about the irony of it all. The first one to accept me into the group had been Kendall. Now, he wanted nothing to do with me.

"Yeah, but it's been the four of us much longer than it's been the three of us," James commented, finally able to speak again.

"And I want it to be the four of us again, but that just isn't possible _right now_. That's not to say that it won't be possible again someday though," I replied.

"So James and I are getting punished because of what Kendall said and did? How is that fair?" Carlos commented.

"Please don't see it like that, Carlos. It's not my intent to punish anyone. I've changed. I'm not the person I once was. I don't want you guys to see me like this. I don't want you guys to see me until I'm the Logan you remember."

How could anyone accept me if I didn't first accept myself? That's the thing; I haven't always liked who I was. Sometimes, I downright hated myself. All of us are flawed, but it always seemed to me that I was more flawed than most people, ergo my hatred of myself. Even though I found three great guys in Carlos, James, and Kendall, I always felt like I didn't completely fit in. I kind of felt like the ugly duckling. The three of them were very much like each other; they were very much in sync. Most of the time, it was like I was on an entirely different wavelength.

"There's all this talk about what people want. What you want. What Kendall wants, or rather _doesn't_ want. Well, what about me and Carlos? What about what _we_ want?" James asked.

"Okay then. Well, what do you want?" I replied, though I was pretty sure I already knew the answer.

"I want the four of us to be friends. That's the way it's _supposed_ to be," James answered.

"Same here," Carlos added.

I sighed. That was precisely what I thought they would say. The more I tried to _stop_ sniffling, the more I sniffled. Eventually, I gave up trying to stop at all. Then, and only then did it seem like I was sniffling less.

"You should talk to Kendall then. He's the one who disowned me," I muttered under my breath.

Carlos wasn't sure what to say, so he let his actions speak for him. He pulled me in for a hug. I could hear his soft cries. I felt so awful. He was crying because of me. Carlos shouldn't cry, period. He especially shouldn't cry because of me. I returned his embrace, and when I did, he flinched when I barely even touched his back. My eyes filled with tears. I was once again reminded of yet another way I had hurt Carlos.

"It's not that bad," Carlos said to me.

"Carlos, are you okay? What are you talking about? What happened?" James asked.

I hung my head in shame, and Carlos tightened his hold on me.

"It's nothing!" Carlos lied.

I didn't like that Carlos was lying to protect me. I really hoped James wasn't too suspicious. Well, at least not suspicious enough to get to the bottom of this. I feared what would happen if he discovered I had hurt Carlos. I had a feeling that James would disown me much like Kendall did.

"Is this a bad time?" Camille asked.

I looked up and saw her standing in the doorway of my room. I was discombobulated. I was happy to see her. I was excited to see her. However, at the same time, I didn't know if I was ready to see her. I wasn't sure that I _wanted_ to see her.

To Be Continued…

**A/N: This chapter was really hard to write. Believe it or not, I have yet another idea for a possible future story. What I decided to do was something intricate but simple; I'm going to make a new poll with all now seven ideas for future stories. Vote for which one you want to see me turn into an actual story. Every week, the option that has the fewest votes will be removed from the poll. This will continue until there is only one story idea left standing. In the event of a tie, I will either extend the voting time until the tie is broken or eliminate all the tied options. This will be decided at my discretion. To help you decide, here is the story title and story synopsis for all seven options:**

"**Doppelganger" Logan multi-chapter Angst/Hurt/Comfort: A cold case involving a paranoid schizophrenic person suspected of murdering his father and being involved in the disappearance of his kid brother gets a new lead after ten years when he mistakes Logan for his missing brother.**

"**No Way Out" Logan/Camille multi-chapter Angst/Romance: A routine trip to the bank turns into a nightmare when three armed men rob the bank Camille and Logan went to and take everyone there hostage.**

"**Sink or Swim" All four BTR guys one-shot Friendship/Humor: Big Time Rush is having their first ever convention. Too bad Gustavo and Kelly failed to mention how crazed some fans can really get. **

"**Hold On" Carlos/Logan multi-chapter Angst/Friendship: Carlos is a thrill-seeker. Logan is not. When Carlos convinces Logan to do some spur-of-the-moment rock climbing, he never thought there would be an accident. **

"**A Different Kind of Kogan" Katie/Logan one-shot Angst/Friendship: James was right after all; Katie does have a crush on one of Kendall's best friends. Only it's not James. One-sided Katie/Logan.**

"**Just Drive" All four BTR guys multi-chapter Angst/Friendship: The four guys go out for a ride to celebrate Logan getting his driver's license. Their joy ride takes a turn for the worse when they are the victims of a carjacker.**

"**Forget Me Not" Logan multi-chapter Angst/Hurt/Comfort: Logan and his grandma have always been close. Even though she has Alzheimer's, she always seems to remember Logan. When Logan receives a call that his grandma is quite possibly on her deathbed, will she remember him then? More importantly, will she even survive?**


	19. Fighting

**Disclaimer: Big Time Rush is the property of Nickelodeon etc., etc. **

**Til I Forget About You**

_Fighting_

"Could I talk to Logan alone?" Camille asked.

Carlos let go of me, and took up a protective stance in front of me.

"No, you can't. Whatever you have to say to Logan, Camille, you can say in front of the rest of us. Isn't that right, Logan?" Carlos replied, turning back to look at me for affirmation.

"Actually, I probably should talk to Camille alone," I responded.

I saw the pure, unadulterated shock on Carlos' face. That clearly wasn't the answer he had been expecting. I also noticed a flash of hurt flicker on his face. He tried to hide it before I saw it, but it was to no avail. I frowned deeply. Why couldn't I stop hurting Carlos?

"We'll be right outside if you need us, Logan. Come on, Carlos," James said.

He walked over to Carlos, and wrapped an arm around his back, and as soon as he did, Carlos' face contorted in pain. James immediately pulled his arm back, and gave Carlos a concerned look.

"Are you okay? What's wrong?" James asked.

"It's nothing!" Carlos exclaimed. "I just uh…slept on my back wrong last night. I've had this killer cramp in my back ever since I woke up this morning."

Carlos looked past James to wink at me. I wished I could feel as relieved as Carlos wanted me to. It's just when he was making up an excuse, his delivery of said excuse left something to be desired. Plus, Carlos kind of had a penchant for blurting out the truth; even when the truth was incriminating.

"Oh, okay," James replied, much to my relief.

Don't get me wrong though. I was still worried. If James was even the slightest bit suspicious, then he would corner Carlos and demand the truth. If that were to happen, I had no doubt in my mind that Carlos would cave and tell James what really went down between me and him. From there, things didn't look good for me because James and Carlos had always been really close.

XXXXX

Camille and I were the only ones left in the room now. Seconds ticked by in complete silence. For wanting to talk to me, she sure was being remarkably quiet. It was so quiet in fact, that the only sound that could be heard was the ticking of the wall clock's second hand.

"You said you wanted to talk to me," I said, breaking the silence.

"Yeah," she answered. She walked up to me, but I could tell that she wasn't sure how close was _too_ close. She settled for standing five feet away from me. "Do you think you could give me a second chance?"

_That_ was what she wanted to say to me? Was she serious? Silly me. Here I was thinking it would be something along the lines of an apology. Or maybe she would ask me how I was doing or something. I should have known better.

"That _was_ your second chance, Camille!" I retorted.

Her first second chance came after I had forgiven her for kissing James. _Forgiven_ being the operative word. I definitely hadn't _forgotten_ about that. As much as I wanted to, I don't think I could _ever_ forget about that. See, there was a nagging little voice in the back of my head that was certain there was more to that kiss than either of them were letting on.

"Well, could I have a third chance then?" she asked.

I turned away from her. I didn't want to see her reaction when I said what I was about to say to her.

"Why are we kidding ourselves? We already tried to make it work; twice. Maybe we should just come to terms with the fact that we just weren't meant to be together," I said.

A few rebellious tears streamed down my cheeks after I said that. I really cared about Camille, which was why it pained me to say what I just said to her. A part of me wondered that if it couldn't work with Camille, then would I ever find anyone else?

"Don't say that!" Camille exclaimed.

I spun around on my heels to face her. That's when I saw that she too was crying. She had her hand suspended in mid-air as she reached out to me. She just wasn't sure if I wanted her to try to comfort me or not. Frankly, I wasn't sure myself.

"Why not? We tried living together, and even that didn't work!" I replied.

"Don't shut me out, Logan. You _know_ I love you," she responded.

"Oh really? Well then, if how you've treated me is you loving me, then I am just _dying_ to see what you hating me is like!"

"How _I've _treated you? See? There you go again! Everyone else is always in the wrong! Don't even get me started on the fact that you couldn't even say, 'I love you' back to me! I mean _usually_ when a girl says, 'I love you' to a guy, he replies with, 'I love you too' but not you!"

"Maybe because I don't! Did you ever think about that?"

She closed the distance between us, pulled back her hand, and slapped me hard across the cheek. My head was rocked to the side. Normally, her slapping me was a display of affection in some weird, twisted way, but this one was different; this one was meant to hurt.

"What are you even doing here? I thought you wanted me to die alone?" I remarked.

"Logan," she said, her voice softening considerably. "I didn't mean that."

"Then why did you say it?"

"It was one of those heat of the moment things."

I shook my head. People always tried to justify things they said in the heat of the moment by saying that they didn't mean it. I completely disagree. They meant it alright. They just didn't mean to say it _out loud_. Things said in the heat of the moment come from your subconscious, so you definitely _mean_ it.

"I'm sorry, Camille, but I just can't do this anymore. Us I mean," I said, lowering my voice as well.

She grabbed me by the shoulders. Tears were streaming down her face as she looked at me. What was left of my resolve went out the window at the sight of Camille crying like that. Now, I was crying just as much, if not more, than she was.

"You don't mean that," she replied.

"Unfortunately, I do. I've opened my heart to you twice now only for you to go and break it. There's nothing for you to break anymore. There's nothing left of my heart, period," I said.

Camille held my face in between her hands as her lips crashed into mine. I was startled by her gesture, but at the same time, I've also come to expect it. She was the one doing all the kissing. I knew what she was trying to do, and I wasn't about to give in.

"Camille, stop!" I exclaimed, freeing myself from her.

"Look me in the eyes and tell me that you don't feel a spark anymore when I kiss you," she said.

The truth of the matter was that I _did_ still feel a spark when she kissed me. The only problem was that it was no longer enough. Self-preservation was human nature. I was only trying to protect myself here. I just never imagined I would ever have to protect myself from Camille.

"You can't just throw yourself at me like that all the time!" I said, irritated.

"You can't even say it," she commented.

"It doesn't even matter, Camille! _You_ are the reason I tried to kill myself! _You_ are the reason I was on my way to the airport the night of the crash! _You_ are the reason I wasn't in the right frame of mind to even be behind the wheel that night! _You_ are the reason I was even in New York in the first place!"

"You're a coward, Logan Mitchell! At the first sign of trouble, you bolt! After James and I kissed, you broke up with me. After you and I fought in New York, you went and tried to kill yourself. You weren't entirely in New York just because of me. You wouldn't have been in New York if you didn't _want_ to be in New York! _I_ wasn't the one who sped out into oncoming traffic! That was _you_! It's so easy for you to point fingers, but it's not so easy for you to take responsibility for your own actions!"

The two of us were now back to shouting at one another. My pulse had rapidly accelerated. My heart felt like it was in my throat. My palms were all sweaty. I was shaking from head to toe. I hated confrontations.

"I'm sorry for being such a horrible person! I'm sorry for being such a horrible friend! I'm sorry for being such a horrible boyfriend! I'm sorry for being such a horrible patient! I'm such a waste of life! Maybe the life that was instilled in me should have went to some terminally ill person or someone who died some tragic death! I should have never been born!" I screamed back.

My knees could no longer support my unsteady weight, and they simply gave out on me. I sank to my knees, buried my face in my hands, and cried like I had never cried before. I just wanted it to all stop. I wanted Camille to stop yelling at me. I wanted to stop crying like a big baby. I wanted to just stop living.

"Logan, you're not a horrible person," Camille said gently to me.

"Go away, Camille! You've said your piece!" I hollered back.

"I can't just leave you like this."

"I said go away! Don't bother coming back either! You won't be on the visitation list!"

I heard the shuffling of footsteps and the sound of Camille's sobs. They gradually got fainter and fainter until I could no longer hear them. However, I heard a different pair of footsteps approaching. This person was bigger and heavier than Camille.

I removed my face from my hands, and struggled to wipe the seemingly infinite tears from my eyes so I could actually see. I felt a sharp pain just below my eye. My head was jarred to the side, and I was soon sprawled out on the floor.

"If you _ever_ hurt Carlos again, you will get ten times worse!" James shouted at me.

I heard another pair of footsteps approaching; a different pair of footsteps. These were much lighter.

"James, I told you it was an accident!" Carlos cried out.

I couldn't see what was going on for a few different reasons; One, I was lying face down on the floor. Two, my vision was still obstructed by a haze of tears. Three, I could already feel my right eye start to swell up, and even if I hadn't been crying, I probably wouldn't have been able to see out of my right eye at all.

James, or at least I think it was James, left the room. Just based off the way he was walking, I could tell that he was _really_ upset with me. I shouldn't have expected anything less; James and Carlos had always been extremely close.

"I'm _so_ sorry about that, Logan. Are you okay?" Carlos asked.

"I'll be fine. Go after James," I replied.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

I heard Carlos scurry away after James. I lay there on the floor. My face hurt from where James had punched me. My eyes stung with tears. I was having difficulty breathing. My heart ached after everything that had just transpired. A part of me wanted to just continue laying on the floor. What was the point even picking myself up?

However, that is precisely what I did. My balance was off kilter as I rose to my feet shakily. I stumbled my way over to the wall, grabbing it for support. I furiously tried to wipe the tears from my eyes so I could see better. I left my room. I was really late for my therapy session, but that wasn't where I was going now anyways.

It wasn't long before I found what I was looking for. I couldn't trust my eyes to see, so I had to rely on another one of my senses; the sense of touch. A long time ago, I had learned Braille just in case I should ever need it. I was always uber-prepared like that. Anyways, after feeling the sign, I knew I had found the right door. The Braille on the sign read, 'Roof Access.'

To Be Continued…

**A/N: Okay, so right now I feel like the worst Logan/Camille fan in the fandom. On another note, the Carlos/Logan story idea "Hold On" is currently in last place on the poll on my profile page. Just a reminder that you have until January 31st**** to vote if you haven't already. Hypothetically, if this were February 1****st****, then "Hold On" would have been the first story idea eliminated. Remember the story idea you want me to turn into an actual story doesn't need to win the poll in Round 1; it just needs to not finish in last. **


	20. Jumper

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who voted in Round 1 of my poll! "Forget Me Not" polled the lowest, and thus is eliminated. You have until February 7****th**** to vote in Round 2 of my poll. Go to the poll on my profile page and vote for whichever story idea you want me to turn into a story next out of the six remaining options. Remember that the story idea doesn't need to win the poll this round; it just needs to not finish in last. **

**Disclaimer: The producers of Big Time Rush and the guys of Big Time Rush themselves have been reading my stories, and after seeing how horrible I am to Logan, they have decided to cease any and all negotiations involving me and even partial ownership of Big Time Rush. Okay, not really. Although knowing my luck…**

**Til I Forget About You**

_Jumper_

The Sycamore Treatment Center was five stories high. I was standing up on the ledge on the roof of the building. I wasn't afraid of heights per se. I just hated tall buildings. They were so imposing and intimidating, not to mention pretentious.

This wasn't premeditated. I hadn't been planning to jump off the roof of the treatment center until fairly recently. More specifically, once things started falling apart; Kendall disowning me, Camille fighting with me, and James punching me.

I realized that this method of suicide could get a bit messy. I knew it would be painful, but hopefully it would be quick. I didn't want to die a slow and painful death. After everything that happened though, I _did_ want to die.

I was sick of putting other people first. I did that first when I moved out to Los Angeles to help make James' dream come true. What about me? What about my dream of becoming a doctor? Was I just supposed to forget about that? Then, I went and put Camille first when I moved out to New York with her to show that I supported her and her acting career. Look where that got me. I tried to kill myself, and was now on the roof of a psychiatric institute about to jump to my death.

I heard several different sounds all at once. I heard an alarm sound from within the building. I heard the sound of approaching sirens. I looked down below, and saw flashing red and blue lights. Cops were on their way, but I didn't really care. Let them come.

"Don't do it, Logan," I heard someone say.

I looked to see where the voice was coming from, and that's when I saw that I wasn't alone on the rooftop. My therapist, Dr. White, was with me as well. She had her hands held up in front of her as she tried to reason with me.

"I'm sorry, Dr. White, but I can't take it anymore. Today was the first day I could have visitors. Today was the first day I could see my friends again. It wasn't supposed to go like this though. They hate me. They all hate me," I said.

"No. No one hates you, Logan. Now, come on. Get down from there, and let's talk about this," she replied, walking towards me tentatively.

I started to panic. She was getting far too close for my comfort. I wasn't going to have her go and ruin this for me. I knew what I had to do.

"If you take one more step towards me, I swear I'll jump!" I warned.

That stopped Dr. White in her tracks. I saw tears stream from her eyes. If there had been anything left of my heart, the sight of my therapist crying would have tugged at my heartstrings. However, there was nothing left of my heart. Everyone else made sure of that.

"Logan, I can't lose you like I lost my son. I vowed that I would do anything in my power to help suicidal teens," she said.

"You're great at what you do, Dr. White, but you can't save everyone," I replied.

Why did she insist on taking this so personally? This wasn't her fault. This was Kendall's fault. This was James' fault. This was Camille's fault. This wasn't Dr. White's fault though.

I looked down below, and saw that some news crews had arrived at the scene. Camera men and reporters filed out of their respective vehicles. I heard a helicopter fly overhead. My guess was that was another reporter for another news station. A crowd of onlookers gathered down below to watch what I would or wouldn't do.

"I'm not giving up on you, Logan. Even if that's what you want me to do," Dr. White commented.

"I don't care whether you give up on me or not. It won't change the fact that I'm going to do this," I responded.

I had no idea why I was shaking so badly. I wasn't cold. I wasn't nervous. The ledge I was standing on wasn't very wide either. It was only about six inches wide. My feet protruded over the edge precariously.

"Logan, you don't want to do this. Think about all the people that care about you," Dr. White said.

"What people?" I replied incredulously. "You mean Kendall who said that I was stupid, selfish, and that he didn't want to have anything to do with me? You mean James who said that they would be fine without me, that the only thing I was good for was singing backup vocals and harmonies, and gave me this shiner? You mean Camille who called me a coward and told me that she hopes I die alone? You mean my parents who can't even bothered to visit their son in a psychiatric institute?"

"No, she means people like me," Carlos said.

I looked over and saw Carlos emerge from the hatch in the roof. I didn't know what to think of this new development. What was Carlos doing here? I thought he left. Did that mean Kendall and James were here too?

"Carlos, what are you doing here? You _hate_ heights!" I exclaimed.

"Yeah, but I love you…in a strictly platonic way…like a brother. Yeah, I love you like a brother!" Carlos replied.

I was really touched by Carlos' gesture. Despite his fear of heights, he was willing to come up here and try to talk me out of jumping. If that wasn't a display of friendship, I didn't know what was.

"Besides, it's not so bad as long as I don't look down," Carlos added.

I couldn't help but notice that his hands were shaking, and his knees were wobbling. He was trying not to let the fact that he was standing on the roof of a five story building get to him, but he was failing miserably.

"Carlos, I love you like a brother too, but…" I started to say.

"Well then, if that's true, don't jump," Carlos stated.

I saw the pleading look in his eyes. I saw the tears leak out of the corners of his eyes, and roll down his cheeks. Carlos was crying because of me. Yet again, I had hurt Carlos. It was like no matter what I did, I couldn't stop hurting him.

"Look Carlos, I don't want to hurt you again," I said.

"Then don't do it. Don't jump," Carlos responded.

The weather took a turn for the worse. It started raining. The three of us quickly got drenched by the downpour. Even though we were rapidly getting cold and wet, none of us were going anywhere.

"Kendall, James, and Camille hate me!" I remarked.

Carlos shook his head vigorously. "They don't hate you. They could never hate you. They may not be your biggest fans right now, but they'll come around," he said.

"Yeah, but what if they don't?"

"Why are you so convinced that they won't?"

"Why are you so convinced that they will?"

I sighed deeply. I heard the people down below let out a collective gasp when I crouched down, and took a seat on the ledge with my back to my audience down below. I saw Carlos and Dr. White both hold their breath, uneasy about my sudden movement.

"Because I'm a mess right now, Carlos. Nobody wants to deal with me and my negativity right now, and I don't blame them," I answered.

"That's not true, Logie! I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere!" Carlos exclaimed.

I started to sob uncontrollably. Every time my body was rocked by a sob, I teetered from my perch on the ledge. Every time that happened, I heard the onlookers down below gasp in unison.

"What did I do to deserve a friend like you, Carlos?" I asked.

"The real question is what did I do to deserve a friend like you, Logan?" Carlos replied.

"Don't be ridiculous, Carlos! I'm a horrible friend!"

"You don't give yourself enough credit, Logan. You're an awesome friend! The best!"

"Yeah, so awesome that two of my best friends hate me and my ex-girlfriend despises me!"

Carlos was slowly and steadily making his way over to me. My body tensed up as I sat up straight. I gripped the ledge tightly with both of my hands. I was ready to stand back up if Carlos got any closer.

"Stay back, Carlos! Don't come any closer! If you do, I'll jump!" I exclaimed.

Carlos froze in his tracks. I could tell that he desperately wanted to get me down off the ledge, but he also didn't want to do anything that would make me jump either.

"I was just going to sit beside you. Is it alright if I do that, Logan?" he asked.

"No! You're just going to try to pull something!" I retorted.

Throughout all of this, Dr. White had been noticeably quiet. Periodically, I would see her nod her head in approval, and give Carlos a thumbs up gesture. She probably figured that he stood a better chance of talking me out of this than she did.

"Logan, think about Katie and Mama Knight. Think about what your killing yourself will do to them. Katie loves you like you were her own big brother. Mama Knight thinks of you as her own son," Carlos said.

"Carlos is right, Logan," Mrs. Knight said.

I saw Mrs. Knight and Katie emerge from the hatch in the roof.

"There are too many people up here right now! Some of you need to leave! Now!" I remarked.

"Logan, please don't do this! My brother is an idiot!" Katie commented.

I was starting to freak out again. There were now four people up here. The likelihood of me being able to jump just got dramatically reduced. I couldn't allow that. Nothing and no one was going to stop me from doing what I had already decided I would do.

"If some of you don't leave right now, I'll jump!" I warned.

I saw Mrs. Knight whisper something in Katie's ear. Then, I saw Dr. White and Katie both leave. That only left Carlos and Mrs. Knight up on the roof with me.

"Logan, I do love you like you were my own son. I've always been fond of you; you know that. Over the years, I've spent a great deal of time with you, and I feel like I know you pretty well. You're not a quitter. You're not one to just give up, so why start now?" Mrs. Knight asked.

"Why not start now? I'm tired of people walking all over me just because they can! I'm tired of people taking advantage of me! I'm tired of people taking me for granted! I'm tired of people treating me like a wad of gum stuck on the bottom of their shoe! I'm tired of people pushing me around! Guess what? This is my way of pushing back!" I remarked, as I rose to my feet.

Once more, I heard the onlookers below let out a collective gasp. I saw Carlos get down on his knees, and clasp his hands together as if in prayer or something.

"Logan, don't! Please don't! I'm begging you!" he cried out.

It was hard to tell if those were tears falling down his face or rain drops. My guess was it was probably both. He was trembling like a leaf. I wasn't sure if it was because he was scared about what I might do or if it was due to him being cold from being drenched out in the rain like we were.

"Who would even come to my funeral? Besides you two and Katie, that is? I mean other people might come for appearance, but not because they actually cared about me!" I said bitterly.

I turned around so that I was now facing my audience down below. In the process, I almost lost my balance because the ledge was all slippery from the rain. That got a reaction from the people down below.

"Just like these people watching me! I bet they _want_ me to jump just so they can say they saw someone jump to their death! Maybe I should give them what they want!" I said.

"Logan, no!" Carlos replied desperately.

I saw some movement down below. Kendall, James, and Camille were making their way towards the entrance of the building.

"Don't you dare come up here! If you do, then you leave me no choice! I'll do it! I'll jump!" I screamed at the top of my lungs.

They must not have heard me because they entered the building anyways. I warned them. I told them what would happen if they came up here. I didn't want to see them. What were they going to do? Come up here and pretend like we were all best friends again? I wasn't going to have that. They couldn't undo the damage they had already inflicted on me.

I took a deep breath before stepping off the ledge of the roof. I felt myself in free fall for a lot less longer than I thought I would be. Then I realized the reason why; Carlos had grabbed a hold of my arm to stop me from jumping.

"I've got you, Logan! I've got you!" Carlos said.

I looked up, and saw that he was laying on his stomach on the ledge. He was dangerously teetering over the edge himself. What was he doing? What was he thinking? What was he trying to do? Get himself killed too?

"Carlos, what are you doing? Let go of me!" I wailed.

"No! I'm not going to let you do this!" Carlos replied.

I started squirming and thrashing about. If Carlos wasn't going to let go of me, then I would do everything I could to make it hard for him to hold onto me. He was not going to ruin this for me. I wouldn't let him.

"Logan, stop that!" Carlos yelled.

I saw that Carlos' eyes were wide with terror. He saw how high up he was, and he _was_ looking down. He was afraid of heights. He held onto me still with a shaking hand.

"Carlos, stop torturing yourself! You hate heights!" I screamed.

"I don't care! The only thing I care about right now is getting you back up here!" Carlos retorted.

The fact that it was raining certainly didn't help matters any. I could feel myself start to gradually slip; The rain was making it even more difficult for Carlos to hold onto me.

"Are you crazy? What if you fall? Save yourself! Forget about me!" I shouted.

"No! Never!" Carlos hollered back.

"Hold onto him, Carlos!" I heard Mrs. Knight shout.

"I'm trying!" Carlos shouted back.

I was floored by Carlos' devotion and loyalty to me. He just refused to give up on me no matter what. It was there, dangling from the roof of a five story building, that I had a sudden change of heart. I no longer wanted to die. Carlos cared about me. Katie and Mrs. Knight cared about me. It may not be much, but it was enough. Carlos was willing to risk his life to see to it that I wouldn't throw mine away. He was willing to face his fears head on in order to save me.

"Carlos, I'm slipping!" I frantically cried out.

"Don't fall, Logan! Don't you dare fall on me!" Carlos responded.

I had slipped so much that he was now only holding onto my wrist. Even then, he didn't have a particularly firm grip on my wrist. This was just my luck; now that I didn't _want_ to die, it looked like I would soon plummet to my death.

"It's okay, Carlos. You did all that you could to save me," I said.

"Don't talk like that, Logan! This isn't over! I've still got you!" Carlos replied.

I saw the torrent of tears cascade down his face. Carlos was an eternal optimist, but I could see it in his eyes; he was even starting to lose hope.

Then, I felt something truly remarkable. I felt two more hands grab onto my forearm. I looked up and saw the faces of Kendall and James.

"We've got you, buddy!" James said.

"On the count of three, let's pull him up…together. One. Two. Three," Kendall counted down.

I felt myself being raised up. I was inching my way closer and closer to the rooftop. My heart swelled with pride. They came for me! Kendall and James came for me! My eyes welled up with tears; tears of joy.

With one final tug, all four of us were now safely on the rooftop. We were all lying on the roof soaking wet. I was quickly enveloped in a group hug. Words couldn't even begin to describe how good this felt. I was right where I should be.

"I'm so sorry! I'll never pull another stunt like this again! I promise!" I said.

"No, I'm sorry! I can't believe it took you almost jumping to your death for me to realize how much you mean to me. I just can't imagine my life without you in it," James replied.

"I'm so sorry too, Logan! I've been nothing but a total jerk to you! I was an idiot! I didn't want to deal with you and your problems, so I tried to ignore you instead. Boy, was I wrong to do that. I may not have your forgiveness today. I may not have your forgiveness tomorrow, but I'm not giving up until I have earned your forgiveness. I'll do whatever it takes to do that," Kendall stated.

I was at a loss for words. I was a myriad of emotions, but for the first time in a long time, they were all _good_ emotions.

To Be Continued…


	21. Pleasant Surprise

**A/N: After watching a whole bunch of behind-the-scenes videos of BTR, how I would rank the boys from favorite to least favorite still hasn't changed. I still like Logan the best. Carlos is a close second. On the show, I like Kendall more than James. Off the show, Kendall and James are virtually tied for third. Anyways, there IS a point to this. Another one of my favorite behind-the-scenes BTR videos is "Big Time Rush: Who's the Most Girl Crazy?" I know, I know. You all have probably already seen this too. Like I said, I'm so far out of the loop that I'm not even aware there IS a loop. Anyways, here is a excerpt from it:**

**Carlos: "How about the fact that Logan can tell a girl like, 'Yeah, you know, that dress doesn't look good on you,' and she'll still be like, 'Okay! You're so cute! Oh my gosh!'"**

**Kendall: "Like he's the flirtiest kid in the world."**

**Carlos: "He'll tell someone to shut up, and she'll be like, 'Okay! You're so cute!'"**

**Logan: "I don't know what you guys are talking about."**

**Kendall: "Nah, that's going a little extreme, but for sure, Logan is the flirtiest out of all of us."**

**Logan: (to presumably female camerawoman) "How you doin'?"**

**Disclaimer: If you seriously think that little ol' me owns Big Time Rush, then…well…actually, I don't even know how to respond to that…**

**Til I Forget About You**

_Pleasant Surprise_

After my joyous reunion with my best friends, my mood sobered up a bit when I saw Camille on the rooftop as well. On the one hand, it was nice to know that she cared. On the other hand, she was part of the reason I almost jumped in the first place. I couldn't in good conscience blame it _all_ on her though.

"Logan, can I talk to you in private?" Camille asked.

I didn't verbalize a response. I merely nodded my head. Honestly, I was a bit apprehensive. For all I know, she might start yelling at me again. After what just happened, I don't know how I would deal with that.

We went to my room. I held the door open for Camille. Even though we weren't a couple right now, I was still a gentleman. Who ever said chivalry was dead? After Camille entered the threshold, I followed behind her, before shutting the door behind me.

"So, what did you want to talk about?" I asked.

I was surprised when she walked up to me and just hugged me. I definitely wasn't expecting that. I was so shocked that I couldn't even hug her back. It made for a pretty awkward hug if you ask me.

"I'm so glad you're safe," she whispered.

I honestly didn't know what to say to Camille. I was already socially awkward around girls as it was. After everything I had been through with Camille, it only just added to the awkwardness of the moment.

Apparently content with the duration of the hug, she let go of me, and backed up a couple of steps. I had no idea what facial expression I wore at that instant, but Camille seemed to be studying my face carefully, and it made me even more self-conscious.

"Anyways, so I was thinking, and keep in mind that it doesn't have to be right away, but I was thinking of you and me trying to be _us_ again," she said.

I shook my head. "I don't think that's a good idea," I commented.

"Why not? I love you, and I'm pretty sure you love me too…"

"A relationship takes more than just love to work, Camille."

I fell silent immediately after I said that. Camille appeared to be deep in thought. She was probably trying to figure out exactly what it was I was saying. To tell you the truth, I wasn't even sure I knew exactly what it was I was saying.

"I don't want to hurt you, Camille. That's not my intention at all. It's just…it's just that I don't want to get hurt either," I stated.

"Logan, I would never hurt you," Camille responded.

"Maybe not _intentionally_."

An awkward silence fell upon us. It was a bit unsettling. Usually, there were no awkward silences between us. What does it say about us if there was one now? I took some comfort in the fact that the two of us weren't screaming at each other…_yet_. On the contrary, we were having a nice, civil conversation with each other…_so far_.

"So where does that leave us then? Friends?" Camille asked.

I sighed deeply before shaking my head again. "I think it would probably be best if we took a break from each other for awhile. I'm not saying that you and I will never get back together again. I'm only saying that when we do, that will be our last shot. If we can't make it work, then I guess we have to come to terms with the possibility that we weren't meant for one another. Since we only get one more go at it, I think it would be better if we wait; I mean we don't want to waste our last chance so soon, do we? I think the longer we wait, the better shot we'll have of actually making it work this time," I replied.

Camille broke eye contact with me. She stared down at her feet in an attempt to hide her sadness from me. I may not have been able to see her face at the moment, but I could still hear her crying softly. I closed the distance between us. I placed my hand against the side of her face, and gently brushed her tears away with my thumb.

"Don't cry, Camille. Please don't cry," I said.

"I can't help it. What you're saying makes sense. I guess. I just don't understand why we can't still be friends. Why do I have to quit you cold turkey?" she asked.

I snickered. She rolled her eyes at me playfully.

"Cold turkey? Did you really just say that? Who says that? I mean people _do_ say that, but in _that_ context?" I remarked.

"You're horrible," she replied, before shoving me lightly.

Despite her remark, I saw a smile tug at her lips. She was doing everything she could to keep that smile at bay. It was rather amusing.

"Oh really? Well if I'm so horrible, then why are you trying so hard not to smile? Methinks it's because you think I'm funny," I responded.

"You? Funny? Ha! Don't flatter yourself!" Camille remarked with a grin on her face.

A light bulb went off in my head, and a somewhat sadistic smile appeared on my face. I rubbed my hands together in eager anticipation…well, in my head; had I _actually_ rubbed my hands together in eager anticipation, it would probably look kind of weird…

"You don't think I'm funny? I'll show you funny. Come here," I said, grabbing Camille by the waist.

I started tickling her side. She responded by laughing and squirming, but I continued my merciless onslaught.

"No, Logan! Don't!" Camille said in between laughs.

You see, it was a little known fact that Camille was ticklish. Actually, so was I. Camille was one of only a handful of people who knew that I was ticklish; _very_ ticklish. On the flipside, I think I was the only person who knew that Camille was ticklish.

"Logan, stop! You're going to make me have an accident!" Camille exclaimed, still laughing.

"Really? I don't believe you," I replied, tickling her further.

"Logan, seriously! Do you _want_ me to wet my pants?"

I ceased tickling Camille for a moment while I pondered that thought. What _would_ people think if Camille actually did wet her pants? How would I explain my way out of that one? That would definitely put me in a pickle, for sure.

Camille took advantage of my distraction, and started tickling _my _side. Now I was the one laughing and squirming.

"Aww! Is Logie ticklish?" Camille asked, talking to me as she would talk to a baby.

I tickled her back. Now we were both laughing and squirming.

"Aww! Is Camille ticklish?" I replied, mimicking the tone of voice she had used with me.

She went to tickle me some more, but I grabbed her wrist. She tried tickling me with her other hand, but I grabbed that wrist as well. She tried to free herself from my grasp, but I wasn't about to let that happen. Our eyes locked on one another. The next thing I knew, the two of us were leaning in. Were we about to do what I _think_ we were about to do?

I cleared my throat before retreating from the _almost_ kiss. I turned away from her. I could feel blood pool in my cheeks. I did everything I could to hide the fact that I was blushing from Camille.

"I uh…just remembered that I didn't tell Kendall, James, and Carlos bye earlier. I'm going to see if I can catch them before they leave," I said, before getting the heck out of dodge.

I closed the door a bit harder than was probably necessary. I pressed my back against the door. My heart raced. My breathing rapidly accelerated. To make a long story short, I was flustered.

_What just almost happened?_

To Be Continued…

**A/N: So I should have put "Fluff Alert!" in the author's note at the beginning of the chapter. Seriously though, I have no idea where that came from. On another note, currently "Hold On" and "Sink or Swim" are tied at the bottom on my poll. If either of those are your favorite, then I strongly suggest you do something about it. If not, then we might have our first double elimination. Don't rely on others to vote for your favorite. **


	22. Moving On

**A/N: I loved "Big Time Crush." I just can't figure out who was more of the star: Carlos or Logan? I loved Carlos and his speed dating and double dating. "I've got two dates. That's why it's called a double date!" "That's not why!" "Can I pick now?" "Stay out of this!" "This has nothing to do with you!" Then Logan masquerading as his grandma was hilarious too. For those of you keeping track at home, Logan has cross dressed the most of the four of them. He's cross dressed in 'Big Time Break,' and 'Big Time Crush' now. Carlos cross dressed in 'Big Time Pranks.' Kendall cross dressed in 'Big Time Sneakers.' James, unless I'm mistaken is the only one who hasn't. I loved the dynamic between Mrs. Knight and Logan. In fact, Mrs. Knight's only scene in the episode was her scene with Logan. She even called him 'honey.' Aww! It was so hilarious how Logan was hiding/cowering behind the couch/bench in the park. I loved how when Carlos tried to give Logan the flowers after decking him, Logan was all, "Really?" I think Logan and Camille make a much cuter couple than Steve and Camille. Even though they kept getting their signals crossed, I ended up only feeling bad for Logan, because he looked so sad sitting at the table by himself; plus since that happened later in the episode, it was fresher on my mind. **

**Disclaimer: I wish I owned Big Time Rush. Then again, I wish for a bunch of things. What can I say? I'm a dreamer…**

**Til I Forget About You**

_Moving On_

I had been at the Sycamore Treatment Center for two months now; it had been a little over seven weeks since I tried to jump off the roof of the building. When I did that, I was at my lowest; I had hit rock bottom. Now though, things were different; things were better. I had been taking my meds, and going to my daily therapy sessions with Dr. White.

I wasn't the same person I was before I left for New York, but now I was the closest I have been to _that_ Logan in a long time. I had been making tremendous progress ever since my last suicide attempt. As a matter of fact, today was my last day at the Sycamore Treatment Center. I was going home today.

I heard a soft knock on the door. I looked up from my suitcase to see Dr. White standing in the doorway. She gave me a warm smile, and I returned her gesture.

"Are you all packed?" she asked.

"I think so," I replied.

I suddenly started to become very emotional. My vision was compromised by the tears leaking from my eyes. Words couldn't even begin to describe how grateful I was for her. She played a pivotal role in my road to recovery. The bond we shared with one another was practically maternal.

"I'm so proud of you, Logan," Dr. White said.

"Thanks! I couldn't have done this without you," I replied.

I noticed that I wasn't the only one getting emotional. Tears fell unchecked from her eyes. She didn't even bother to wipe her eyes or try to stop the tears from falling. She had told me that I reminded her so much of her son. I couldn't help but think that my leaving was in a way like her losing her son all over again.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but I hope to never see you here again," she commented.

"No offense taken," I responded.

I walked over to her, and the two of us shared a hug. Honestly, I was scared. I had practically become dependent on Dr. White. What was to become of me when I was no longer at the Sycamore Treatment Center? What if I wasn't ready for the outside world quite yet? She had been with me every step of the way since I came here. What was I going to do now? Would I even be okay without her?

"Logie!" a familiar voice said, clearly excited.

I had barely let go of Dr. White when my helmet-wearing best friend nearly bowled me over when he ensnared me in an enthusiastic bear hug. It was a bit of a paradox; there was a huge smile on my face, yet I was crying. They were tears of joy, but also because Carlos was a bit _too_ enthusiastic with his embrace.

"Carlos, I can't breathe!" I remarked.

"Oops! Sorry!" Carlos replied, quickly letting go of me.

Carlos' cheeks flushed red and he stared down at his shoelaces. I was so happy to see Carlos. Don't get me wrong; Kendall, James, and Carlos had visited me every day here at the Sycamore Treatment Center. It's just that this visit was clearly unlike any of the others. Today was the day I got to go back to the Palm Woods.

"Hey, buddy!" James greeted.

He came into my room, and tousled my hair. I rolled my eyes and groaned. I put a lot of work into spiking my hair just right. I let out an exasperated groan before trying to fix my hair.

"Are you ready to come home?" Kendall asked, clapping me in the back.

"You have no idea," I said, before realizing Dr. White was still in the room. "No offense, Dr. White."

"And that is my cue to leave. Take care, Logan," Dr. White said.

"Bye Dr. White," I responded.

As thrilled as I was to see my best friends, I found myself eyeing the doorway. I guess I kind of expected more visitors. I mean where was Katie? Where was Mrs. Knight? Where was…_Camille_?

Believe it or not, I actually hadn't seen Camille since our almost kiss the day I tried to jump. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't stop myself from wondering if maybe I had done something wrong. Had I upset her? Why hasn't she been by since? It seemed as though we were always in a constant state of limbo with one another.

"Ooh! Logie, wait until you see…" Carlos started to say, before James and Kendall elbowed him in the ribs. Carlos massaged his newly sore ribs. "Ow!"

Kendall made a shushing gesture while James made a throat slitting gesture. I eyed both of them curiously. I wondered what that was all about.

James walked up to me and draped an arm over my shoulder.

"Let's go home, buddy," he said.

XXXXX

The door to Apartment 2J swung open. I thought it was a bit fishy how Kendall, James, and Carlos all insisted that I enter first. My suspicion grew when I saw how dark it was in the apartment. Why weren't there any lights on? Was the power out? Was there even anyone else home? I flipped on the light switch.

"Surprise!" myriad voices chorused.

I was so startled that it nearly knocked my socks off. I swore that my feet literally left the floor. When I saw not only how many people, but who was gathered in the apartment, I was seriously touched. Camille, Jo, Tyler, Guitar Dude, Jett, Katie, Mrs. Knight, Gustavo, Kelly, Griffin, Mr. X, and even the Jennifers were there. Oh, and get this; Mr. Bitters was there too.

"Wow! I don't know what to say!" I exclaimed.

Apartment 2J was adorned with decorations. A huge 'Welcome Back Logan' banner hung on the wall in the living room. There were balloons and streamers of all colors everywhere. I kind of felt like an idiot; that was probably why only Kendall, James, and Carlos came to pick me up earlier.

I saw Kelly and Gustavo make their way over to me. Kelly gave me a hug.

"Logan, Gustavo has something he wants to ask you," Kelly said.

"I do?" Gustavo asked.

Kelly smacked him in the back of his head.

"How do you feel about joining the band once again?" Gustavo questioned.

I wished someone would pinch me because I was pretty sure I was dreaming. _The_ Gustavo Rocque wanted _me_ back? Most of the time, I wasn't even sure he liked me; I wasn't even sure he liked any of us really. I didn't realize I was _that_ important to the group. I mean they managed to get all the way to number two on the weekly Top 40 countdown without me.

"Really?" I asked.

"Really," Kelly responded.

"Heck yeah!" I answered.

"Good, because we'll have to re-shoot two music videos and re-record three songs. Not to mention how you have four new choreography routines to learn, and five songs have been added to our set list. Plus, we have a concert in three days," Gustavo said.

My eyes bugged out, and my jaw hit the floor. Carlos waved his hand back in forth in front of my face, but I didn't so much as blink.

XXXXX

My welcome back party was still in full swing. Everyone had personally welcomed me back to the Palm Woods. Everyone else was doing their own thing; Carlos was trying unsuccessfully to get the Jennifers' attention, Kendall was off with Jo, but the biggest shocker of all was who James was with: Camille.

I sat and watched from afar as he had an arm wrapped around her shoulder. The two of them were sitting next to each other on the orange sofa. James bent down and kissed the top of her head. Camille tried to hide the fact that she was blushing by hiding behind a screen of hair.

I was at a loss for words. When did this happen? Was this why Camille hadn't been by to visit me? How long had the two of them been an item? How could James not tell me? Did anyone else know? If so, why didn't _they_ tell me? Why did it even bother me so much in the first place? I mean Camille and I weren't together anymore. Sure, the last time I saw her prior to today, we _almost_ kissed, but still, that's something, right?

I felt my eyes start to get moist. I couldn't watch this anymore. I got up, and slipped away to the bathroom. I closed the door behind me before going and sitting on the shower floor. I pulled the shower curtain shut even though there wasn't even anyone else in the bathroom with me at the moment.

This couldn't be happening. There was no way this could be real. James told me that Camille wasn't his type. Of course, they kissed twice after that, but James said they got caught up in the acting. Like an idiot, I believed him. I somehow convinced myself that there was nothing going on between Camille and James. Now this.

What about Camille? I thought she loved me? How can she just fall out of love with me? Is it even possible to fall out of love with somebody? What about our almost kiss? I guess I always thought that Camille would kind of be like my safety net; if I couldn't find romance elsewhere, I would always have Camille to fall back on. So much for that idea.

A part of me wondered what would have happened if I hadn't been at a psychiatric institute for the past two months. Would Camille and I be together then? Or would she still have ended up with James?

I didn't want to be a baby, but I couldn't stop the tears from falling. My heart ached. What if Camille was who I was supposed to end up with? Now that she's taken, does that mean I'll die alone? What if I never find anyone else? What if Camille was the love of my life? It was hard for me to be happy for James and Camille. I think in order to do that, I needed to get over the crippling betrayal I felt.

I heard the bathroom door creak open, and I heard someone, and I wasn't even sure how many, enter.

"There you are! We've been looking everywhere for you," Kendall said, opening the shower curtain.

"Are you okay?" Carlos asked.

I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand, before giving them a shaky smile. I just got back from a psychiatric institute. The last thing they needed to think was that I had left too soon.

"How long?" I asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

"How long?" Kendall asked, confused.

I was quickly growing irritated with the both of them. How could they just stand there and pretend that they had no idea what I was talking about? They _had_ to know what was troubling me.

"How long have James and Camille been together?" I asked.

"Oh, that," Carlos said glumly.

"I think it's been about six weeks now," Kendall said.

Six weeks? Since it had been a little over seven weeks since my last suicide attempt, that meant that James and Camille only waited a week before they started going out. I felt like James and Camille had ripped my heart clean out of my chest, stomped on it, and then stuffed what was left of it back in my chest.

"Wait a second. You guys _knew_ about this the whole time, and you never once thought about mentioning it to me?" I asked, raising my voice.

"We didn't want to upset you!" Carlos replied.

"Oh, well that mission failed miserably! How could this _not_ upset me? More importantly, how could you keep this from me?" I screamed at them.

"Logan, I…" Kendall started to say.

"Save it Kendall! I don't want to hear any of your excuses! As a matter of fact, get out! Both of you! I just want to be alone!" I yelled.

Carlos was reluctant to leave me in my current state, but Kendall gestured with his head towards the door, and Carlos dragged his feet behind him. Kendall had already left the bathroom, but Carlos stopped in the doorway. He turned around to face me.

"For what it's worth, Logan. I really am sorry…for everything," Carlos said, before leaving the bathroom and quietly closing the door behind him.

To Be Continued…

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who voted in Round 2 of the poll on my profile page. I received the same amount of votes as I had received in Round 1. Without further ado, here are the results: "Sink or Swim" sank, and "Hold On" couldn't hold on. Okay, that was lame. Anyways, that's right; they tied at the bottom of the poll, and thus we have our first double elimination. Round 3 of the poll is now underway, and will be held through February 14****th****, so go to the poll on my profile page and vote for your favorite. **


	23. Confrontations

**A/N: "A Different Kind of Kogan" is currently at the bottom of the poll on my profile page. Remember that you have until the end of February 14th**** to vote in this round, and the story idea(s) that poll the lowest will be eliminated.**

**Disclaimer: Nickelodeon owns Big Time Rush. I am not making a profit by writing this.**

**Til I Forget About You**

_Confrontations_

I was backstage in my dressing room. We had just finished our concert. Everything went great; the concert was sold out, the crowd loved us, we sang well, we danced well, everything went without a hitch. Even though I just learned the dance routines to four of the songs a couple of days ago, it was like I was never gone to begin with. Singing and performing with the others was like riding a bike.

After carefully weighing all my options, I decided that staying was my best bet. I could have committed suicide, and that surely would have made James and Camille feel guilty. However, eventually, they would get over it; eventually they would move on…with each other.

I considered moving back to Minnesota and pursuing my own personal dream of becoming a doctor. Once again, that was almost guaranteed to make James and Camille feel guilty. However, I was probably better off here than with my parents who barely even gave me the time of day. Besides, James and Camille could and probably would forget about me…in time.

Now if I stayed, I was still able to do something that I loved to do: sing with my best friends; my best friends being Kendall and Carlos. I no longer counted James as one of my best friends. I didn't even think of him as a friend to me. A friend wouldn't have stabbed me in the back like he did. No, James and I were in a band together, but that was the extent of our relationship with one another. My staying here forced James and Camille to live with the consequences of their actions every time they saw me. I wouldn't have it any other way.

Out on the stage, it was like the four of us never missed a beat. The crowd had no idea that all four of us weren't the best of friends anymore. Singing, performing, that was business, and I knew how to keep my business life separate from my personal life.

"Great job tonight," I heard a voice say.

I saw that Camille was standing in the doorway of my dressing room. Honestly, it sucked. I still cared a great deal about Camille. While the two of us were on a break, it didn't mean that I stopped caring about her. I probably wouldn't _ever_ stop caring about her. Anymore though, it just pained me to see her; it was just a reminder of how she had betrayed me. Seeing her there, I could already feel my eyes start to get moist. I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand, and cleared my throat.

"If you're looking for James, you should check his dressing room," I said in a monotone voice.

I noticed that my emotionless voice made Camille wince. "I'm not looking for James. I'm right where I want to be," she replied.

Was it just me, or was she giving me mixed signals? The two of us weren't boyfriend and girlfriend. Heck, we weren't even friends. So why would she want to be around me at all? She had a boyfriend. Someone who just happened to be one of my former best friends.

"I just wanted to make sure that we're okay. I mean I haven't seen much of you since you've been back," Camille commented.

I turned away from her. I could still see her if I looked in the mirror though. So instead, I looked down at the ground. I was furious. She starts going out with my best friend, and then she has the nerve to ask if I'm okay? I took a deep breath, and tried to keep my voice calm before answering her.

"Yeah, well I've been really busy. I was gone for awhile, and I had a lot of catching up to do," I responded.

"Look Logan, I know that I hurt you, but you need to understand that hurting you was never my intention," she said.

I spun back around on my heels, and glared at her with watery eyes. My heart was racing. It felt like there was a gaping hole in it; my breathing seemed hindered by it too. I took short, ragged breaths.

"If you never wanted to hurt me, then answer me this: why James? It wouldn't have been so bad if it were some stranger, but it wasn't, now was it?" I retorted.

She started to walk over to me, but stopped halfway unsure if that's what she should be doing; if that's what I _wanted_ her to do. I saw tears leak out of the corners of her eyes. What did she have to be sad about? She had a boyfriend. She wasn't the one who had been stabbed in the back!

"I don't know. I guess because there's a spark there…" she started to say before I cut her off.

"How long?" I asked.

"How long _what_?"

"How long have you known there was a spark between you and James?"

I braced myself for the heartache that I knew was just on the horizon. I wanted to know the answer, but at the same time, I didn't. I was still trying to wrap my head around the idea that the one girl I thought I would spend the rest of my life with may not have been the girl for me after all.

"I think it was when he and I kissed for the first time back before you and I broke up the first time," she answered.

I swallowed a lump that was starting to form in my throat. I feared that was when it had originated. A fresh wave of fury washed over me as I suddenly realized something else.

"So this whole time you've been leading me on? Why would you do that? Why would you even get back together with me in the first place?" I asked, my voice starting to raise in volume.

"I was scared! I didn't want to lose you!" she exclaimed.

"Well, now you have!"

"Don't say that, Logan! I love you!"

"Yeah, but you're just not _in love_ with me!"

She fell silent, but that was all the answer I needed. I was so angry with her that I was literally shaking. I was a hodgepodge of emotions. My head swam as I tried to sort through them all.

"Hold still. I want to try something," I said.

I walked over to her, put my hands on either side of her face, bent my head down slightly, and crashed my lips into hers. I immediately felt the spark. It was just as good as I remembered it. I stopped the kiss when breathing became an issue.

"Tell me you didn't feel anything!" I demanded.

She averted her gaze. "I'm sorry, Logan."

Aching doesn't even begin to describe how my chest felt at that moment. I clutched it futilely. Breathing was a problem, but this time for an entirely different reason. The floodgates behind my eyes collapsed.

"Get out," I said in a voice so low that I would be surprised if she even heard me.

"Logan…" she said.

"Get out!"

She left my dressing room in tears. I followed her, not because I was going after her, but because there was someone I needed to see right now. It didn't take me long at all to find _his_ dressing room.

"James!" I shouted, my hands curled up into fists at my side.

James turned away from his vanity to see me standing in the doorway of his dressing room. At first, he smiled upon seeing me, but then when he saw the emotional state I was currently in, his smile turned upside down.

"Why? Why Camille? You could have any girl you want! Why did you have to steal the girl I liked from me?" I yelled.

"Logan, I never meant to hurt you," James replied.

"Funny. Camille said the exact same thing. What, did the two of you get together and rehearse what you would say to me?"

"It wasn't like that. Really Logie, I never wanted to hurt you."

"Don't! You've lost your right to call me that!"

There was a war going on inside of me. A part of me wanted to find out how this even happened in the first place. James called himself 'The Face.' Well, the rest of me wanted to ruin that face of his.

"How did this even happen?" I asked, cooler heads prevailing for the moment.

"Camille was a mess. She was missing you. She felt guilty that you were in a psychiatric institute. She felt guilty that you had tried to jump off the roof. I understood perfectly what she was going through because I felt the same way. Camille needed a shoulder to cry on," James answered.

"Let me guess; you were all too happy to oblige?"

James was normally a confident individual. However, when he broke eye contact with me, I knew that he was unsure of himself. He was trying to do and say all the right things to me, but he just didn't know what those things were.

"I thought Camille wasn't your type?" I asked.

"I just said that because I knew that you liked her," he replied.

"That's just great! So now on top of being a Benedict Arnold, you're also a liar!"

"The two of you have nothing in common! Camille and I both share a love for acting. We are both passionate people. She gets me, and I get her."

"Twist the knife a little more, why don't you?"

I took off running towards James. I clenched my hand even tighter into a fist. I pulled my fist back and aimed for James' nose. At the last split second, James dodged the attack, and my fist smashed into the mirror, shattering it. Shards of glass embedded themselves in my knuckles. I cried out in pain, and cradled my injured hand to my chest.

"Logan!" James exclaimed.

He kept trying to help me, but I kept shoving him back roughly with my uninjured hand. A thin ribbon of blood seeped in between my knuckles before dripping on the floor. My knees gave out on me, and I sank to the floor. James somehow managed to wrap me up in an embrace. I squirmed, struggled, and thrashed, but he wasn't letting me go.

"I trusted you! I trusted both of you! I hate Camille! I hate you!" I screamed, my eyes stinging with tears.

"I know, Logan. I know," James replied.

After minutes on end, my fruitless efforts wore me out. The two of us sat there on the floor of James' dressing room. He held me in his arms as I mourned for everything I had lost.

To Be Continued…

**A/N: Just to give you a heads up, this story has one maybe two more chapters left. Any more than that I think will just be overkill. **


	24. Bittersweet

**A/N: "Just Drive" did well to make it into the final three, but alas, it fell just short of the final two. It is down to "A Different Kind of Kogan" and "No Way Out" just like I had a feeling it would be. You have until the end of today to go to my profile page and vote for which idea you want me to turn into my next story.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. **

**Til I Forget About You**

_Bittersweet_

Kendall, James, Carlos, and I were sitting in the living room eagerly waiting to hear whether our newest single, "Nothing Even Matters" had made it on the Weekly Top 40 countdown or not. It was number 24 last week. They had just played the number 2 song, so that meant one of two things; either it fell off the countdown completely, or it was the number 1 song this week. The highest the three of them got on the countdown without me was number 2.

"Guys, how exciting is this? We might have the number 1 song on the Weekly Top 40 countdown!" Carlos exclaimed.

"Yeah right, Carlos. We probably didn't even chart this week," I replied, ever the pessimist.

"Shh! It's back on!" Kendall informed us.

The four of us craned our ears. We got ever closer to the radio as if that would somehow help us to hear better. We all held our breath.

"We're back, and now for the moment you've all been waiting for. It's time to reveal the number 1 song this week on the Weekly Top 40. Up twenty-three from last week, it's 'Nothing Even Matters' by Big Time Rush," the DJ announced.

We all started jumping up and down screaming like little girls. We fist bumped one another, hugged each other, and gave each other high fives. I don't know about the rest of them, but it felt like I was on cloud nine. It was so gratifying to know that all our hard work paid off. As a band, we had been on quite a journey, mostly because of me; with my leaving the band and then going to rehab before rejoining. This was like the culmination of our journey as a band.

'_Cause the world stops_

_When I put my arms around ya_

_Around ya, oh_

_And nothing even matters_

_And nothing even matters_

_It's like one for the haters, and two for all of those_

_Who try to shut us down, they don't really know_

_There ain't nothing they can do that can tear us apart no_

_I don't care about the money, don't care about the clothes_

_When we're together baby anything goes_

_And we don't even need to prove what we feel in our hearts no_

_This wall we built together_

_There ain't no way of knocking it over_

_And we'll be here forever_

_Getting closer and closer baby_

'_Cause the world stops _

_When I put my arms around ya_

_Around ya, oh_

_And nothing even matters_

_And nothing even matters_

_They can all talk_

_Say what they want about us_

_About us, oh_

_And nothing even matters_

_And nothing even matters_

_It's like the sound goes off and the people all freeze_

_They disappear and it's just you and me_

_Anything you wanna do anything that you please_

_Forget about our problems and forget our past_

_I've seen the future and I know we gonna last_

_Every second I'm with you just goes so fast_

_This wall we built together_

_There ain't no way of knocking it over_

_And we'll be here forever_

_Thought I told ya, thought I told ya baby_

'_Cause the world stops _

_When I put my arms around ya_

_Around ya, oh_

_And nothing even matters_

_And nothing even matters_

_They can all talk_

_Say what they want about us_

_About us, oh_

_And nothing even matters_

_And nothing even matters_

_We don't even need to fight_

_Everything will be alright, oh yeah_

_Nothing even matters but you and I_

'_Cause the world stops_

_When I put my arms around ya_

_Around ya, oh_

_And nothing even matters_

_And nothing even matters_

_They can all talk_

_Say what they want about us_

_About us, oh_

_And nothing even matters_

_And nothing even matters_

'_Cause the world stops_

_When I put my arms around ya_

_Around ya, oh_

_And nothing even matters_

_And nothing even matters_

_They can all talk _

_Say what they want about us_

_About us, oh_

_And nothing even matters_

_And nothing even matters_

Listening to the lyrics of the song, I started to get all teary-eyed and emotional. I wanted to be the one to put my arms around Camille. I thought Camille and I were going to last. I'd do anything she wanted or pleased; I moved out to New York as proof of that. I started retreating to my room, but apparently, I wasn't very subtle about it.

"What is it, Logan? What's wrong?" Carlos asked.

I held back my tears and gave him a fake smile. It was remarkable how much of a pro I had become at feigning happiness.

"It's nothing. I'm fine," I lied. "I just need to be alone for awhile."

"Are you sure that's such a good idea?" Kendall remarked.

I knew what he was referring to. Based on the looks on the faces of James and Carlos, they knew what Kendall meant too. I was kind of irked at them for their unnecessary concern. I mean they were being ridiculous. I hadn't tried to kill myself since I got up on the roof of the Sycamore Treatment Center and was going to jump.

"You guys really don't have to worry. I'm not going to do…_that_…anymore," I said.

I don't know if they believed me or not. I didn't stick around to find out. I looked straight ahead as I set off for my bedroom.

XXXXX

"Hey, Logan, can I come in?" James asked, knocking on the doorframe.

"Sure," I answered.

He came in, and sat on the bed next to me. I felt a little uneasy. Even though I let him come in, I wasn't entirely certain that I wanted him to come in. Through all of this, my relationship with James had perhaps been impacted the most. I hated how it had come to this.

"So, we have a number 1 song! How cool is that? It's all thanks to you, Logan!" James remarked.

"Yeah right," I replied.

"No, really. 'Worldwide' only got as high as number 2 on the countdown. That's because you weren't a part of the band then. Now that you are, 'Nothing Even Matters' is number 1."

"Don't be ridiculous. It's just a coincidence."

"Come on, Logie. You don't give yourself enough credit."

I averted my gaze. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a flicker of a frown cross James' face. I didn't _mean_ to make James sad. I didn't _mean_ to be such a killjoy. It's just…I was at a loss about what to do. I didn't know how to deal with everything. It was overwhelming.

"This is about Camille, isn't it?" James asked.

I pressed my lips together in a firm line. Other than that, he got no response from me.

"If me dating Camille makes you uncomfortable, then just say the word, and I'll end it. Your friendship is much more important to me," James said.

"James, I can't ask you to do that," I replied.

"Why not? I want my best friend back. Even if that means…"

"I don't want you to break up with Camille, James. She makes you happy, and you make her happy. I had my chance with her; two chances as a matter of fact. It's time I let someone else have a shot. Just…be good to her."

"I will. Thank you, Logan."

I decided to take the high road, and be cool with the fact that James and Camille were now dating. Like James, my friendship with him was much more important to me. Besides, at least Camille was dating someone I knew. James would treat her right. At least I hope so.

"So, are we cool?" James asked, holding out his hand for me to shake.

"Yeah, we're cool," I replied, shaking his hand.

An infectious grin spread across his face, and the next thing I knew, I was smiling in a similar fashion. I had to admit that it felt like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders now that James and I were on good terms with one another once again.

XXXXX

I knocked on the door to Apartment 4J, Camille's apartment. I noticed my hand was shaking, so I stuffed both of them in my pants pockets. Honestly, I wasn't looking forward to this, but now was as good of time as any to get this over with.

"Logan! I'm surprised to see you," Camille said upon opening the door.

I chuckled nervously. Her statement had already started to chip away at my resolve. I would be lying if I said that the idea of bolting hadn't crossed my mind. No, I came all this way. I didn't come all this way to get cold feet.

"What brings you by?" Camille asked.

"I just wanted to let you know that you have my blessing. Not that you _need_ my blessing, but in case you were wondering, you have it. I'm happy for you and James. Okay, well maybe not _happy_, but I'm not completely against it anymore. Hey, that's a start, right? I think that over time, I'll grow to be _happy_ about it, or at least more okay with it. I think I'll shut up now. I probably sound like a rambling idiot," I said all in one breath.

She laughed, which made my cheeks heat up out of embarrassment. I suddenly became all too conscious of her gaze, and stared down at my shoelaces instead.

"Oh Logan, you're so sweet," Camille commented.

"Just not sweet enough for you to date," I remarked.

"Logan, that's not fair."

I still refused to meet her gaze, but I could feel her eyes on me. I was trying not to let my bitterness take over, but it was so hard. I mean I still felt that Camille was the one for me, but I didn't want to come between her and James.

"This isn't a competition, Logan," she said.

"Then why does it feel like I lost?" I asked.

"Logan…"

Try as I might, I couldn't stop some tears from leaking out of the corners of my eyes. I hated how emotional I was. I had been taking my antidepressants and everything, but sometimes, it seemed like the meds were making me more emotional. I hated how I was such a baby now. I cried over the littlest thing. It was really annoying.

"Well, I said what I came here to say, so I think I'll be going now," I said.

As I turned to leave, I felt Camille gently grab my arm, stopping me. I froze in my tracks. A part of me wanted her to let me go, but the rest of me wanted her to ask me to stay; for her to say that she wanted to give _us_ one more chance. It was that hope that made me stand there anticipating what she was about to say or do next.

"You're a great guy. The truth is that I don't deserve a guy like you. I feel like I'm not worthy enough to be on the pedestal you place me on. I practically forced you to move to New York with me only to pretty much ignore you. I know you disagree, but I feel completely responsible for your suicidal behavior. You have so much trust in me. I don't even think I have earned your trust. Quite the opposite; I think I've destroyed your trust. I kissed James before we broke up the first time. I started going out with James after we broke up the second time," Camille said.

"I'm not perfect either, Camille," I replied.

"Yeah, but you're more perfect than I am. You're smart, funny, talented, sweet, generous, loyal, kind, selfless, cute, loveable, and just an all around amazing guy. I'm the reason we didn't work out; not you."

"Who's putting who on a pedestal now?"

I didn't think I was all of those things she said I was. Apparently, I wasn't as selfless as she thought I was. Apparently, I was also insecure. Even if I was all those things she said I was, it still wasn't good enough, was it? Camille still didn't want to be with me. I felt a twinge of pain right where my heart was.

"You're going to make some lucky girl real happy, Logan," Camille said.

"I wanted to make _you_ happy though," I responded.

Her eyes started to fill with tears. A plethora of rebellious tears escaped the confines of my tear ducts. Now we were both crying; we were both emotional. Hearing and seeing the other cry just made matters worse.

"Please don't make this any harder than it already is," she pleaded.

"So you rather I pretend that this is a walk in the park? I'm sorry, but I can't do that, Camille. This _is_ hard. While I appreciate your faith in me, I can't help but wonder if I'll ever find anyone else like you; if I'll ever find anyone else at all," I said.

"You will, Logan. You will. Any girl who doesn't think you're a catch is stupid, and doesn't deserve you to begin with."

"You know how I feel about you, Camille; I love you."

"I know you do, Logan. I know."

That wasn't quite the response I was going for. My body shook with sobs. My tears fell much more frequently, and they almost seemed to increase in size as well. She couldn't even say it. She couldn't even say that she loved me. She didn't even have to say it in the present tense. I just wanted some reassurance that something about our past was real for the both of us.

"If things don't work out between you and James, not that I hope things don't work out for you two, on the contrary, I wish you guys nothing but the best, but if they don't work out, I'll be here. I'll be waiting," I said.

"I don't want you to do that. I don't want you to wait for me. I want you to be happy too, and you can't be happy if you're waiting for me," she replied.

"So, that's it then? We're never going to get another shot? We're never going to get back together?"

"I don't know. Let's just play it by ear, okay? In the meantime, can we still be friends?"

I hesitated as I contemplated that for a moment. Could I handle being friends with someone who is dating one of my best friends? Would it be too painful for me? On the other hand, if I chose not to be friends with her, then how could I ever expect to get back together with her? Maybe I should just suck it up and get over myself. Having her in my life, no matter how, was better than _not _having her in my life, wasn't it?

"Yeah, of course," I answered.

The two of us shared a hug. I tried to savor every moment of this because for all I knew, this would be the last time the two of us would hug like this. Just as always, it felt so right holding her in my arms.

"No matter who I am dating now, no matter who I may date in the future, you will always be my first, Logan. No one can ever take that away from you," she said.

I placed a finger over her lips before she could say anymore. I made a shushing sound.

"Don't say anything else. Let's just leave it at that," I stated, a hint of a smile appearing on my face.

My heart swelled with pride. Apparently, I wasn't the only one who could be sweet. Likewise, Camille will always be my first too. She would always be the first girl I ever asked out. She would always be the first girl that I kissed. No one could ever take that from her either.

"I'll see you around, Camille," I said.

**The End**

**A/N: Ugh! I'm so sorry it took me so long to update/finish this story. I knew that I wanted this chapter to be the last chapter, but writing a suitable ending was much more difficult than I anticipated. Plus, I had fairly recently purchased three new video games, and so naturally, I had to geek out over those. Yeah, I know. I'm so lame…Not to mention that the past few days, I've been sick, and still am. Ugh! Oh, and if any of the lyrics are incorrect for 'Nothing Even Matters,' blame the liner notes. I still don't 100 percent like this ending, but I just kind of want to be done with this story already. Anyhow, thank you all so much for reading and supporting me and this story!**


End file.
